The Nightshaker Conspiracy
by Avoncliffe
Summary: James and Harry are married and their first assignment as husband and wife will take them into the realms of science fiction. Plans and details of a US Navy experiment that went wrong in 1943 have gone missing from CIA Headquarters. They must be found before they fall into the wrong hands - and it may already be too late!
1. Chapter 1

**The Nightshaker Conspiracy.**

**Chapter One.**

**CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia. February 1988.**

In a meeting room buried deep within the CIA HQ, four men sat round a glass topped table, steaming cups of coffee, two packs of Marlboro's, two Zippo's, four pads of plain paper and standard issue Biro's scattered across it. Smoke curled into the air from two cigarettes burning independently in the ash tray and mixing with that expelled from the two who were smoking cigars.

The group consisted of Barney Howard, the Head of Intelligence and Analysis, Joe Westwood, the Head of Clandestine Service, David James, Head of Science and Technology and Admiral Benjamin Allen, Head of Naval Intelligence.

"Insofar as the media and, consequently, the general public were concerned the experiment was never carried out." said Admiral Allen, a thick cloud of cigar smoke billowing from his mouth.

"But it was, wasn't it, Admiral." replied Barney Howard, picking up his smouldering cigarette from the ashtray and taking a deep drag. "And now the files and complete details of that successful experiment have gone missing."

"God help us if the Russians get their goddam hands on it." said Joe Westwood.

What they were referring to had been code named at the time 'The Philadelphia Experiment', an alleged military experiment that is said to have been carried out by the U.S. Navy at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard in Pennsylvania in October, 1943.

The U.S. Navy destroyer escort 'USS Eldridge' was claimed to be rendered invisible, or "cloaked", to enemy devices.

"Just so we have everyone singin' off of the same hymn sheet here." said Barney, blowing smoke out as he spoke. "Perhaps you can get us on the same page, Admiral."

Admiral Allen, his cigar buried in the side of his mouth, cleared his throat.

"Well, the experiment was based on an aspect of the 'Unified Field Theory' and aimed to describe, mathematically and physically, the unification of fields of electromagnetism and gravity into one, thus enabling a person to use large electrical generators to bend light around an object via refraction, so that the object became completely invisible."

"Sheesh!" exclaimed Joe. "I guess the Navy wet their pants over that, huh?"

"Certainly did." confirmed the Admiral. "We regarded this of military value, and by all accounts, sponsored the experiment."

"So how come the shit didn't hit the fan?" asked David James, stubbing out his Marlboro.

"Through a systematic release of disinformation." replied Admiral Allen. "We maintained that no such experiment was ever conducted, that the details of the story contradict well-established facts about the Eldridge itself, and that the alleged claims do not conform to known physical laws, so consequently we were successful in the story being widely believed to be a hoax."

"Tests were carried out though, weren't they." stated David, lighting another cigarette.

"Sure were." replied Admiral Allen. "Testing began in the summer of 1943, and it was supposedly successful to a limited degree. One test though, resulted in the Eldridge being rendered almost completely invisible, with some witnesses reporting a greenish fog appearing in its place. Crew members complained of severe nausea afterwards, but that wasn't the worst of it."

"Why? What was?" asked Barney.

"When the ship reappeared, some sailors were embedded in the metal structures of the ship, including one sailor who ended up on a deck level below that where he began, and had his hand embedded in the steel hull of the ship!" replied the Admiral. "Other sailors went completely bananas!"

"Holy Christ!" exclaimed David, his expression incredulous. "Didn't they can the whole thing after that?"

"No, they didn't. The experiment was altered at our request." replied the Admiral. "And the new objective was solely to render the Eldridge invisible to radar."

"And did that go ahead?" asked Barney.

"No. The conjecture was that the equipment was not properly re-calibrated, but in spite of that, the experiment was repeated on October 28, 1943." said the Admiral. "That time, the Eldridge not only became invisible, but she physically vanished from the area in a flash of blue light and teleported to Norfolk, Virginia, over 200 miles away!"

"What!?" exclaimed Barney, a cloud of smoke bursting from his mouth as it dropped open, the mouth's of the other two gaping at the Admiral.

"Yep. The Eldridge sat for some time in full view of men aboard the ship 'SS Andrew Furuseth', whereupon the Eldridge vanished from their sight." replied the Admiral. "Then it reappeared in Philadelphia at the site it had originally occupied. And here's the thing. That warship went approximately 10 seconds back in time!"

"Holy Mother of God!" hissed an astonished Joe Westwood, all three rubbing their foreheads in disbelief.

"And that's not all, gentlemen." continued the Admiral. "Some crew members were physically fused to bulkheads, while others suffered from mental disorders, some rematerialized inside out, and still others simply vanished."

"How in all that's sane, did the Navy keep all that under wraps!?" asked a still incredulous David James, along with his two colleagues and who also wanted that question answering.

Admiral Allen hesitated before answering, clearly gathering himself to explain, and sucked on his cigar.

"The ship's crew may have been subjected to brainwashing, in order to maintain the secrecy of the experiment." he said.

"Hell fire, gentlemen." said Joe. "We have to find those plans and details before they fall into the wrong hands, if they haven't already. Interpol and MI6 have been notified of the theft. An internal investigation is already under way, codename 'Operation Nightshaker', to try and get some timelines on it all. I'll report back to the Director a little later today. This whole sorry story must never get into the public domain!"

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In London, newly weds James and Lady Harriet Dempsey were awaiting the maitre'd to show them to their table in the Yalousa Taverni, a Greek restaurant in Soho.

They were gathered around the bar with the six friends who'd been on Necker Island to witness their marriage, two bottles of champagne open in front of them. All eight were a picture of health, their skin tanned from the Caribbean sun.

Although it was only mid week, the restaurant was busy and the atmosphere bubbling with conversation and laughter, traditional Greek music playing softly in the background.

"When did you actually get back, Harry?" asked Angela, the closest of her friends.

"Sunday." replied Harry, taking a sip of Krug. "We spent most of it in the air."

"The air or cloud nine?" asked Angela, grinning, a knowing look in her eye.

"Well it was a private jet, Angela." she giggled, unable to hide the mischief on her face, before sighing. "It was the most heavenly way to spend Valentine's Day!"

"Ooh you minx." whispered Angela, her imagination running wild as she finished her wine and reached for the bottle.

"I did tell you how they like to make your trip as comfortable as possible, didn't I." grinned Harry, her eyes shining.

"You did and I aim to find out for myself." chuckled Angela, then dropping to a whisper. "I've been working on Ollie ever since you let me into your little secret."

"You haven't told him, have you!?" asked Harry, alarmed and levelling a direct gaze at her friend.

"No! Of course not!" replied Angela, placing the bottle of champagne back on the bar and taking a sip from her replenished glass. "As it happens there was a documentary on the tellybox last week, all about private travel. And the cameras went inside a jet a bit like the one you were probably on. So now I keep dropping hints in his direction."

"Any luck?" asked Harry, grinning once more.

"Not yet! But he won't escape!" replied Angela, then winking. "Softly, softly catchee monkey!"

"You're learning." giggled Harry as Dempsey slipped his arm around her waist.

"Hungry honey?" he asked as she reciprocated and leant against him, then kissed his cheek.

"Food now. You later." she whispered, having worked her fingers under his shirt and, hidden by his jacket, lightly scratched his skin with her fingernails, knowing how much it turned him on.

She let out a little gasp as the hand around her waist slid lower and squeezed, her senses already beginning to tingle at his touch.

The maitre'd approached then and escorted them to a large circular table, where an army of waiters buzzed around them, dishing out menu's and taking orders for drinks.

"How are the arrangements going for your reception, Harriet?" asked Rupert, Dempsey's best man.

"Daddy has everything sorted." replied Harry, looking up from her menu at him. "He put all the finishing touches together whilst we've been on Bali."

"Talking about Bali." said Hugo, as two waiters brought three more bottles of chilled Krug to the table. "By the colour of you both, the weather must have been glorious. You put us lot in the shade!"

"Wall ta wall sunshine!" replied Dempsey, grabbing a bottle and filling Harry's glass, followed by Arabella's next to him, before topping up his own. "Warm sea, cool nights and total seclusion."

"Ah, so that explains your tans despite being on honeymoon!" chuckled Rupert, echoing Dempsey's similar remark when meeting him and his wife, Lady Arabella, following their own honeymoon a couple of months earlier.

"I've modelled on Bali." said Belinda, Hugo's latest squeeze and who he'd brought to Necker with him. She was a statuesque brunette with beautiful skin and eyes of deep violet, her long, thick black hair accentuated with faint traces of red and blonde streaks.

"Really? Who for?" asked Harry who, despite being in her company for a whole week, never did get the chance to have a proper conversation with her. In fact she wasn't alone. Belinda had appeared welded to Hugo throughout and, apart from the hen party, had been somewhat of a loner.

"Calvin Klein." replied Belinda, smiling across at her and holding up her glass for Hugo to fill. "He'd just launched his latest range of lingerie, so we did some beautiful and tasteful photographs on the beaches there."

"Ooh, you lucky thing." said Arabella, sipping her wine. "What a wonderful job you must have."

"Yes, I love it." replied Belinda, sipping hers. "I get to see the world and meet lots of lovely people - well in the main they are lovely - some of them, male and female, can be rather difficult - and nasty."

"Green eyed monster nasty?" asked Angela, not altogether sure what to make of Belinda.

"From the women, yes." she replied. "The men! They were just after one thing!"

"I can't imagine why." Dempsey chipped in, only to get a kick on the shin from Harry, although the look on her face was one of amusement, rather than annoyance.

"Trust you!" she whispered, nudging him in the ribs for good measure, the others, including Belinda, chuckling at them both.

"Are you still on Calvin Klein's books?" asked Joyce, a close friend of both Harry and Dempsey and the only one of Harry's friends who knew she worked alongside Dempsey in SI-10, a special department of undercover and counter intelligence operatives, linked to both MI5 and MI6, Joyce attached to the latter. Like Harry, her true employment was also a closely guarded secret.

"Yes I have a contract with the company which has just been extended." replied Belinda, smiling round at everyone.

"Congratulations." said Joyce, like Angela not certain of what made this beauty tick.

"Yes well done you." echoed Harry, noting Joyce's slightly quizzical reaction to Belinda. "Are you working on anything currently?"

"Yes a mixture of things." replied Belinda. "I'm modelling in the studio at present and am often called upon to be present at various functions as a representative of the fashion industry."

"And what does that entail?" asked Roger, Joyce's boyfriend of several months and Harry's cousin.

"Oh, partnering various bigwigs to functions, parties and dinners." replied Belinda.

"Bit like an escort then." said Rupert, grinning at Hugo, who was non too pleased at the casual, yet obvious, reference to prostitution.

"I don't sleep with them!" replied Belinda, her tone cutting and glaring at Rupert.

"Rupert!" hissed Arabella, angrily. "That was uncalled for!"

"Yes I'm sorry, Belinda." replied Rupert, sheepishly. "That was out of order."

An embarrassed, momentary silence fell across the table, broken by the arrival of a waiter to take their orders for food.

The rest of the evening went off happily, Rupert's faux-pas soon forgotten, everyone looking forward to meeting up at Winfield Hall on Saturday for Dempsey and Harry's belated wedding reception organized for the many family and friends who, for obvious reasons, couldn't be on Necker.

On the way home, Harry, fuelled by the champagne and liqueurs consumed that evening, was in a frivolous mood, deliberately teasing Dempsey by running her fingers up and down his thigh as he drove.

"You're gonna be in real trouble when I get you home, Mrs Dempsey." he chuckled.

"Mmmm, promises, promises." replied Harry, her voice low and deliberately seductive.

Five minutes later she was sound asleep.

Meanwhile, on their drive away from the restaurant, Hugo wanted Belinda to stay with him for the night.

"I'm sorry, babe." she soothed, caressing the back of his neck. "I've got an early call in the morning. I'll stay over on Friday, then we can go to Harry and James's reception on Saturday. Okay babe?"

"I s'pose so." replied Hugo, reluctantly. "Best I drive you home in that case."

After making a fuss of him, she finally waved him off and let herself into her luxury apartment. Having changed into a baby doll night dress fashioned in white silk, she picked up her telephone and dialled a number.

Hearing the deep voice the other end, she said.

"Ivan? I'm home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two.**

Harry was the first to wake up the next morning and, as ever, looked across at the still sleeping Dempsey. Sliding across the bed to him, she entwined her legs with his and began twiddling the hairs on his chest around in her fingers, before lifting herself onto one elbow and looking down at him.

Closing her eyes, she kissed his eyelids, then his cheek, the tip of his nose and finally his lips. As he opened his eyes, he reached an arm around her back and ran his fingers down her spine, feeling her shudder and shiver with ecstasy.

"Good morning, husband of mine." she whispered, her voice husky from a glass or two too many during their evening with friends. "What happened last night?"

"You fell asleep." he answered, quietly, his lips caressing hers as he spoke, his fingers continuing to stroke her spine, her skin fluttering under his light, gentle touch.

"Mmm, I did, didn't I. But, I'm wide awake now, darling." she said, her hand sliding down his body, his subsequent groan of pleasure heralding the unbridled passion that followed.

Later, showered and dressed for work, they sat at the kitchen bar, eating their favourite breakfast of scrambled eggs, grilled bacon, toast and marmalade, the obligatory pot of fresh coffee steaming away on its hot plate.

"What do you make of Belinda, Dempsey?" asked Harry, despite now being married to him, still referring to him as she always had done, old habits dying hard.

"Not given it much thought honey, why?" he replied, finishing his meal and taking a long drink of black coffee.

"I don't know." she said, looking thoughtful, finishing her breakfast too and sipping her drink. "I just detected Angela and Joyce finding it hard to read her."

"Why would you wanna read her?" he asked. "She's a stunning model with curves in all the right places an' puttin' em' to lucrative effect by the sounds of it."

Without warning and as if from nowhere, panic suddenly gripped her.

"Oh yes!?" she answered, memories rushing in of how Robert, her first husband, had changed overnight from attentive partner to cheating bastard once she married him. "I suppose you'd be in there like a rat up a drainpipe!"

"Huh, I wouldn't kick her outta the sack." replied Dempsey, grinning at her, the assumption she was being playful turning to mild shock at the look of hurt and concern on her face.

He instinctively knew where it was coming from.

"Hey princess, no-one, but no-one, will ever come close to you for me!" he exclaimed. "Harry, I ain't no Robert Makepeace!"

She searched his face, swallowing back the tears that were threatening to engulf her and, as quickly as they had rushed at her, her fears faded, the knowledge that the love they shared was deep, true and eternal, calming her.

"I'm sorry, James." she said, quietly. "The damage Robert did to me cut so very deep, it sometimes gets triggered and bubbles to the surface."

Dempsey stood then, took her hand and gently pulled her to a standing position, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her face to him, kissing her tenderly on the lips. Both her arms went round his neck as she responded, finally saying as their lips parted from each other.

"I love you so very much."

"My love for you knows no bounds, Harry, no bounds at all." he said, his soft brown eyes searching hers. "Sometimes, ya know, I have ta pinch myself to know that this beautiful, sexy, wonderful girl in front of me, loves me as much as I love her."

He grinned then and, as he kissed her once more, she melted, her heart bursting and her fears now fully dispelled, such was the unique and innocent power he held over her. They hugged for a moment before letting go of each other.

"What am I like." she said, smiling and sitting down again. "Just ignore me, darling, I'm being silly."

"No honey." replied Dempsey, still standing next to her, one arm around her shoulder, the other holding her hand. "You're bein' honest an' open an' wearin' ya heart on ya sleeve. It's important ya don' bottle things up. Too many relationships and marriages bust open an' hit the skids 'cos one or other, or both even, jus' clam up. That ain't gonna happen to us, so long as we discuss everything - good or bad, yeah?"

"Yes - and no secrets." she said, caressing his hand.

"Hell no!" replied Dempsey, raising an eyebrow. "Honey, our cupboards are bare. We cleared any skeletons out a long time ago, didn't we?"

"Yes of course we did." smiled Harry, back to her old self as she started giggling. "I probably know more about you than you know yourself!"

"I know somethin'." he said, squeezing her hand that was still stroking his.

"What?" she asked.

"I wanna take you back to bed!" he grinned, as he suddenly lifted her into his arms.

"James we can't! We haven't the time!" she laughed, burying her head into his neck and putting up not the slightest token of resistance as he carried her back to their bedroom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ivan Davidovich was twenty-eight years old and an albino, every hair on his body white blonde. Nevertheless, standing six foot two, he was impressive looking, with broad shoulders, barrel chest, slim hips and muscled thighs. Supremely fit, he ran six miles every day followed by an hour in the gym, lifting weights and carrying out a regular routine of exercises to maintain his toned physique.

He was also a Russian spy and a ruthless killer, trained in the art of self defence, could snuff the life out of an adversary with one blow to the throat and was fluent in English, French, German, Dutch, Spanish, Italian and Chinese.

Despite his rare, almost frightening looks, he exuded a magnetism that women found irresistible - there was something dangerous about him and they were captivated by it.

He'd met Belinda at a function in the Russian Embassy, she on the arm of a French diplomat and merely there for decoration. She had wanted Ivan on sight and slipped away quietly with him into an empty office, giving herself to him willingly.

She had no idea he was a spy, believing him when he told her he worked for the Russian ambassador as a bodyguard. He was mysterious and exciting but she saw him only occasionally, hence her ongoing relationship with Hugo who was rich, handsome and available.

His albinism was of the ocular kind, thus his impossibly pale blue eyes now devoured her naked body next to him, a body he had used most of the night and he was ready for more.

As Belinda slowly woke, she felt warm hands caressing intimate parts of her body and, opening her eyes, stared into Ivan's, his white eyelashes and eyebrows never failing to fascinate her. She reached out and stroked his smooth, hairless chest then lay back and let him take her once more.

"When will I see you again?" she asked later, lying in the bed and watching him as he got dressed, the rippling muscles of his arms and shoulders doing nothing to dampen her desire for him.

"In a few days, my kotyonok." he replied.

"What's that word mean?" she asked. "Coatie-onnie or something."

"Kitten, you're my little kitten." he smiled. "Or I could call you my kotik, zaika or malysh. They mean pussycat, bunny or baby."

"I love all of them - so _sexy_!" she replied, as he made to leave. "Put a message for me on my ansaphone when you're back?"

"I will malysh." he said, then he was gone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was lunchtime in Washington DC and Melissa Dunstone was in a hurry. For a forty-five year old she was in great shape, with blonde hair, blue eyes and a curvy figure and although married for twenty-five years, she was rarely without a lover.

She was meeting one of them now and running ten minutes late. Although both Americans born and bred, they were Communists and Russian agents, having been recruited in their teens.

He, Alex Ford, also forty-five, worked in the archives section at the CIA and had stumbled across the thick file detailing the Philadelphia Experiment. Stamped 'Top Secret' and 'Highly Classified' it had no business being where it was. Just how it found its way there was of no concern to Alex - and after quickly speed reading the contents, he knew he'd hit the jackpot so was quick to spirit it away in his briefcase.

Contacting his handler, he'd been instructed to hand it over to Melissa and give her a description of the agent she was to meet, who was flying in from London later that afternoon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In London earlier that morning, Ivan, having left Belinda, was now sitting in front of the Ambassador's huge oak desk.

"Ivan Davidovich, I have a job for you." said the Ambassador. "You are booked on the midday flight out of London Heathrow for Washington DC. You will proceed immediately to the Topaz Hotel where a room has been reserved in the name of Hans Bensinck. You are a Dutch teacher specialising in twentieth century politics on a fact finding mission. Our asset will be in touch with further instructions."

"Can you tell me the essence of my mission at all, your Excellency?"

"You have been chosen to collect some documents that are highly confidential." replied the Ambassador. "Then to bring them back to me."

"Thank you for your trust and choosing me to carry out this task." said Ivan. "I will not fail you, your Excellency."

Having left the office, Ivan collected his false passport, identity papers and a five hundred dollar float, then returned to his apartment to pack an overnight bag.

It wasn't yet nine o'clock, so he changed into his running gear, the obligatory six miles taking him forty-two minutes. Stopping off at the gym and punishing his body for another hour, he was still in plenty of time to get to Heathrow and boarded his flight at eleven forty, which took off on time at midday.

He met with no trouble at passport control, speaking in deliberate broken English and was ushered through. By four pm local time, he was entering his room at the Topaz Hotel, half an hour later receiving a call instructing him to go to the hotel bar and wait for a blonde woman, wearing a dark green overcoat.

Entering the bar, he ignored the stares, some surreptitious others blatant, at his appearance, ordered a Jack Daniels on the rocks, sat at a vacant table and waited.

After a while an attractive middle aged blonde woman walked up to him. As previously instructed he stood up as she kissed him in welcome, then went to the bar and bought her a vodka and tonic.

Having finished their drinks they got up and left, anyone watching assuming they were probably going for an early meal somewhere or simply moving on.

Instead they went to his room.

When she took her coat off, Ivan was pleasantly surprised. She was voluptuous, clothed in a figure hugging dress that slid higher when she sat at the bedroom table, exposing shapely thighs in black tights.

"What is your name?" he asked, staring intently at her.

"Melissa." she replied. "And you?"

"Anyone you care me to be." came his reply.

Smiling, she transferred the thick file of papers to his briefcase and brushed her hand lightly across his as he closed it. Looking up at him as he stood next to her, she became excited as his pale blue eyes devoured her.

"Now our business is concluded, can I buy you dinner?" he asked, making no secret of the fact that he found her highly desirable as his eyes wandered over her body.

"Let me make a 'phone call." she replied, picking up the room telephone, punching nine for an outside line. "Hi honey, I'm gonna be workin' late. Dunno when I'll be finishin' up. May have to grab a room somewhere's for the night. Don' wait up, see ya in the mornin'. Okay. Love you too, baby."

She replaced the receiver, then levelled her blue eyes at Ivan.

"I'm all yours honey." she said, reaching for the belt to his trousers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dempsey and Harry were half an hour late arriving at the SI-10 offices and were met with the playful wagging of fingers and tut tutting from their grinning colleagues.

"Traffic was hell this mornin'." said Dempsey. "Wasn't it Harry."

"Oh yes, awful." she replied, keeping her head down at her desk and shuffling through a pile of papers.

They were saved from any more newly wed based ribbing by Spikings who, on hearing their voices, appeared at his office door, gesturing with his forefinger for them to join him.

Dempsey assumed his normal stance leaning up against the wall, while Harry sat down opposite Spikings.

"Somethin' up Chief?" asked Dempsey.

"There is, Dempsey, but as yet we're not involved." replied Spikings, continuing. "But that's not to say we won't be."

"Sorry sir, but I'm not sure I understand you." said Harry, puzzlement on her face.

"MI6 were notified by the CIA that a highly confidential file has gone missing from Langley." explained Spikings. "And we, in turn, have been alerted too, as have Interpol."

He then went on to describe 'The Philadelphia Experiment', Dempsey and Harry's mouths falling open ever wider with disbelief and horror as the details unfolded.

"Holy Moses, boss!" exclaimed Dempsey. "If that file winds up with the Ruskies or the Chinks, an' they iron the hitches outta that experiment, we're in big trouble!"

"Quite so, Lieutenant." agreed Spikings. "And no-one has the foggiest idea who took the file or where it might be."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three.**

On Friday morning, following a sleepless night of raw sex, his insatiability matched equally by Melissa, Ivan had to re energise himself and disregard the overwhelming temptation to roll over and sleep the morning out.

If common knowledge, his opinion of women would have them baying for his blood! To his mind they were on this planet for one thing and one thing only - to satisfy his rampant libido which, through his supreme fitness, was further fuelled by higher than average levels of testosterone.

And his way of life was a driving force too. Danger at every corner and death a claimant at any moment, meant he wasted little time in bedding any woman he found attractive who crossed his path, whether they went willingly - or, as on some occasions, they didn't.

It wasn't long before images of a naked Belinda filled his mind, his subsequent arousal prominent. Shaking the pictures from his memory, he set the alarm on his travel clock and catnapped for ten minutes.

As disiplined as ever, he then forced himself to take an ice cold shower, remaining under the stinging jets of water until he was shivering uncontrollably. Having loosened up with some excercises designed to increase his heart rate, he set off on his regular six mile run, returning to his room forty minutes later and completing one hundred press-ups.

Then, lying flat on the floor, knees drawn up and with arms round the back of his head, he carried out fifty straight sit-ups, ensuring his forehead touched his knees at the top of the arc.

Fifty more followed, this time twisting his body to allow his left elbow to connect in the centre of both knees, then a further fifty repeated with his right and another fifty with both left and right elbows hitting his knees in quick succession, deliberately matching his left elbow with his right knee and vice versa.

After another ice cold shower he'd shrugged off any desire for sleep, so dressed and, with briefcase and overnight bag in hand, settled his room bill with cash and hailed a cab, arriving at Dulles airport in time for his pre-booked midday flight back to Heathrow.

His desire for Belinda however, remained as strong as ever.

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In London, Harry's bedside telephone was ringing, Dempsey reaching over her to answer it and hearing Freddy's voice the other end.

"Hey, mornin' Daddy-O!" he said, his voice transmitting a smile down the line as he noted the hands on the bedside clock reading six-thirty.

"Good morning James." said Freddy, chuckling. "I'd rather be 'Freddy' though I think!"

"Oh right... mmmm." Dempsey replied, half his answer muffled by a waking Harry, who, having opened her eyes to find Dempsey directly above her, had wasted little time in pulling him down to kiss her.

"Pardon?" asked Freddy.

"Sorry Freddy, Mrs Dempsey's just woken up!" he replied, having wrestled a giggling Harry's lips from his, Freddy smiling at the sound of it all. "Say, what's with the early mornin' call?"

"Ah yes, apologies for that." replied Freddy, "But I thought I'd best catch you both before the pair of you disappeared into the secret world of SI-10. I never like bothering either of you during your working day."

"Ok shoot!" said Dempsey, trying hard to concentrate given that Harry's deliberate attempts at distracting him by caressing him in the most intimate of places, were having the desired effect!

"Your mother and I were wondering if you were planning on coming up this evening or first thing tomorrow morning." replied Freddy, Gloria, Dempsey's mother, having returned from the wedding on Necker was staying at Winfield Hall along with Alice, Harry's beloved Aunt and Freddy's step sister..

"Er, yeah, tonight." confirmed Dempsey, continuing to struggle at keeping his voice neutral since Harry was now facing him, having climbed on top of him and, lying flat on his stomach, was treating him as if he were a mattress, whilst gently moving herself around, caressing his body with hers.

"Morning Daddy! We'll see you tonight." she called, having lowered her mouth to the telephone, before lifting herself up, both hands supporting her and placed either side of Dempsey, her body still shifting seductively on his.

"Wonderful." replied Freddy, still chuckling at the obvious antics the other end. "I think I'll leave you two to it now. You sound as if you need help, James."

"Nah!" laughed Dempsey. "I got it!"

"Bye Daddy!" said Harry, taking the receiver from Dempsey, then stretching across him to re-connect it to it's base.

"You're in real trouble now, Mrs Dempsey!" he said, rolling her onto her back and looking down into her laughing, shining eyes.

"Punish me then!" she replied, breathless, then moaning with exquisite pleasure as they became one.

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Despite instructions from on high for all personnel at airports, train stations and bus depots to be vigilant in watching for anyone, or anything, appearing suspicious, it only takes for one or two lazy officials not to be up to the job, to allow a hunted individual or sensitive material to slip the net.

And so it was for Ivan.

Maintaining his disguise as a Dutch teacher, no-one challenged him as he made his way through to the departure lounge at Dulles airport. Granted, no-one was actually looking for _him_, why would they, but they _were _alerted to the missing file.

However, it was now languishing in an innocent looking briefcase, pushed into the overhead locker above Ivan, as his Boeing 707-300, flying at thirty-nine thousand feet and cruising at five hundred and fifty miles an hour, sliced through the air on its way to Heathrow.

With half an hour to go before boarding his flight, Ivan had put a call in to Belinda, only to get her answering service. Totally unaware that she was due to spend the weekend with Hugo, he left her a message saying he would be at her apartment at six that evening, his libido already firing on all cyclinders at the mere thought of her naked body and memories of the skills she used in bed.

Landing at four o'clock, and disembarking a few minutes later, Ivan noted the shadows lengthening, dusk just over an hour away, as he walked past the terminal's huge windows on his way to passport control.

Standing in the queue as it shuffled slowly forward, he noticed the time it was taking was far longer than usual. Being much taller than those around him, it wasn't long before Ivan realised the passport officials were carrying out thorough searches of everyone's bags.

This wasn't good, but all he could do was hope that if his briefcase was searched and the file noticed, they wouldn't know what they were looking at. As he edged nearer to the control booth, he began to breathe deeply, drawing air into his lungs to counter balance his increasing heart rate.

There were two passport officials, one a negro, Charlie Hill, British born and from Leyton Buzzard, the other, Dicky Norman, a Londoner from Barnet.

Ivan got the negro and, like most Russians, hated them with a passion, considering them filthy, uneducated creatures. His temper began to boil as Charlie's black hands began to rummage around in his overnight bag, Ivan intent on dumping everything in it for fear of contamination.

But Charlie wasn't as stupid as Ivan assumed, because the instant he saw the file with 'Top Secret' and 'Highly Classified' stamped in red ink all over it, lying in the briefcase, he knew it was what they'd been alerted to watch out for.

Remaining calm, he glanced up at the huge albino standing in front of him and slipped his hand to a hidden button under his desk.

His eyes, however, gave him away.

To an intensely trained spy such as Ivan, one of the things drummed into him was to recognise how the eyes of an adversary reacted.

It was akin to the gunslingers of nineteenth century America - who would always watch the eyes of their opponent, rather than their gun hand, to gauge when they were about to draw.

In this instance, Charlie's black stare hardened the moment he pushed that button and Ivan reacted immediately.

With all four fingers of his left hand as rigid as steel, he hit Charlie in the throat with the tips, killing him instantly. Grabbing the briefcase, but leaving his bag and passport, Ivan launched himself through the barrier and sprinted away.

Alarms were wailing now, the high pitched sirens echoing around the cavernous terminal, people scattering in all directions as a charging Ivan bore down on them, anyone too slow to react being bounced aside and sent flying by the equivalent of a rampant bull.

With the exit doors in sight, Ivan's pumping adrenalin enabled him to step up a gear and he didn't slow an inch when two airport police, weapons drawn and pointing straight at him, suddenly appeared to block his progress.

"STOP OR WE FIRE!" yelled one of them but Ivan ran straight at him, knowing he was bluffing - there was no way they wanted bullets flying around with so many innocent bystanders, many of them children, in the way.

Consequently the officer wavered for an instant before witnessing this frightening looking individual deliberately falling onto his left thigh and sliding along the polished flooring towards him, taking his legs from under him and knocking him straight into his colleague, both of them crashing to the floor.

He smashed through the exit doors and sprinted to the taxi rank, hauling a astonished driver out of his Nissan Bluebird before firing it up and screeching away in a cloud of blue tyre smoke.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Belinda arrived home around four forty-five in the afternoon, she was met with Ivan's message and several from Hugo.

'Oh my God!' she thought. 'I can't have Ivan here when Hugo picks me up!"

She quickly dialled Hugo's number.

"Hi babe." she said when he answered, before turning seductive. "Are you coming to get me soon? I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, sweetheart." replied Hugo. "I could come over now?"

"Okay babe." she said. "I'll pack my things and be waiting for you."

"Can't wait." he replied.

"Me neither. See you soon." she said, replacing her receiver.

By the time Hugo had arrived she'd quickly showered and dressed, having selected her clothes for the weekend, her suitcase waiting by the door to her apartment when he strode in.

Having kissed him passionately, leaving him under no illusions as what her intentions were, they strolled out to his black Porsche, a car she loved, it's shape, it's speed, it's sophistication, turning her on. By the time they arrived at Hugo's apartment she was aching to take him to bed.

In the meantime, dusk was falling and assisting Ivan in his escape. Once he'd cleared the airport, he joined the traffic on the M4 travelling into the city, staying in the middle lane and not drawing any attention to himself.

His aim was to get to the Russian Embassy as soon as possible before the Ambassador left, not intending on handing his valuable package to anyone else.

But that plan was scuppered when an articulated lorry jackknifed and brought the motorway to a grinding halt - and he was stuck there for another two hours. He fought hard to hold his nerve, because he knew by the time the accident had been cleared enough for one lane to open, there could be police watching for his car.

Finding an A-Z, he noted where the next exit was and knew he had to manoeuvre over to the inside lane as soon as the queue began to move once more. Eventually his plan worked and he was soon heading for Belinda's apartment, not daring to go to his, in case his description had been circulated.

He was right.

The killing of Charlie Hill had made the six o'clock news on radio and television and Ivan was now a hunted man.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dempsey and Harry were unaware of what was unfolding as, at six o'clock, they were driving up to Winfield Hall with Sinatra serenading them on the cassette player.

"I can't wait for this weekend to get going, Dempsey." she said, humming to 'Come Fly With Me'. "It'll be great to see everyone and spend the entire time telling them all what a wonderful wedding and honeymoon we had."

"You'll probably bore em' all stoopid, honey!" teased Dempsey, knowing that would get her going.

"No I will not!" replied Harry, indignantly and falling straight into his trap, hook, line and sinker, then, having glanced at him angrily, noted the wide grin on his face. "Ooh you big tease! And I rose to it!"

"Yeah, rare that." he replied, still grinning at her.

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"'Ain't it me who usually rises to the occasion?"

"If I have anything to do with it later, you will!" she giggled.

Dempsey laughed out loud as he swept the car through the gates to the Hall, it's powerful headlamps on full beam and searching the long driveway ahead for the magnificent house.

"Wow! We're here already! That journey went quickly." exclaimed Harry, excited and looking forward to the upcoming party in their honour, wondering if her heart could lift any higher.

As per usual, she leant across and gave the car horn a few blasts to herald their arrival, Freddy already waving as they drew up in front of the impressive house. His butler, Abbott, materialised as if from nowhere and collected their luggage, while Harry and Dempsey followed Freddy through to the drawing room, where Aunt Alice and Glo were waiting.

"Here they are!" squealed Aunt Alice, spreading her arms wide, inviting hugs. "Mr and Mrs Dempsey!"

"Hi Aunt Alice." replied Harry as the life was almost squeezed out of her. "And Glo, hello, has Daddy been looking after you?"

"Sure has Harry, the perfect gent." replied Glo, smiling and hugging her new daughter-in-law, before turning to Dempsey.

"Hey son, you're lookin' good." she smiled, hugging him too.

"Yeah an' you ain't lookin' so bad yerself, Ma." he replied. "That sun's been good for ya!"

"Er Harriet, James, can I grab you for a moment." said Freddy. "Sorry to butt in, but could you come into the study. Excuse us ladies."

"What's up, Freddy?" asked Dempsey, as Freddy closed the study door behind them.

"Gordon Spikings wants you to call him." replied Freddy. "I've no idea why."

"I can guess." said Dempsey, looking over at Harry.

"Me too." she agreed. "Okay Daddy, can we call him from here?"

"Yes of course." replied Freddy. "Come and join us when you're finished. The champagne is chilled and delicious."

"Be right there." said Dempsey, as Harry picked up the 'phone and dialled Spikings at home.

"Hello sir? It's..er, well, Makepeace?" she said, looking over at Dempsey and biting her lip. He gestured it was fine, smiling.

"Yes...er, Sergeant. I presume Dempsey's with you." replied Spikings, himself unsure how to address her now she was Mrs Dempsey. "Anyway, there have been some developments on the missing file."

"Oh yes?" she asked, Dempsey joining her and listening in. "And Dempsey is listening too."

Spikings related what had happened earlier in Heathrow, together with witness descriptions of Ivan.

"I know you have things to do this weekend and Mrs Spikings and I will be joining you tomorrow." said Spikings. "Some of the team won't be able to make it though as I've got them working on trying to locate this character. But I'll need you both firing on all cylinders first thing Monday morning."

"Yes understood sir." replied Harry. "And thank you for not calling us back."

"Wouldn't dream of it." said Spikings, adding, just to keep them on their toes. "You aren't my only two successful operatives, you know."

Dempsey pulled a face at the phone, Harry quickly putting her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"No sir, of course we aren't." she replied, as diplomatic as ever. "We'll see you tomorrow, goodnight sir."

"Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight Sergeant." said Spikings, the 'phone going dead.

"You aren't my only two successful operatives, you know." mimicked Dempsey, puffing out his cheeks and chest, Harry giggling at him and taking his hand.

"Come on." she said, kissing him. "Let's get some champagne and relax. There's nothing we can do until Monday, so let's just enjoy ourselves."

"Roger that, honey." replied Dempsey as they made their way back to the drawing room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Belinda's apartment block was located in Notting Hill, but Ivan had to dump his stolen cab somewhere else before he got anywhere near the place. Finding a quiet residential road in Bayswater, he parked up and waited until the early hours when everything was still and everywhere deserted.

Then he set about wiping the car clean of fingerprints, his training ensuring it was carried out thoroughly and comprehensibly. Eventually satisfied with his work, he tossed the keys away and, under cover of darkness, walked the mile and a half to Notting Hill, again his training ensuring he remained invisible, few people if any, seeing him.

Finding a phone box a few yards away from her apartment, Ivan dialled her number, only to get her messaging machine again. Swearing under his breath he slammed the receiver down and approached the main front door, accessed only by pressing the appropriate apartment number and waiting for the occupant to release the lock.

There was no way he could force an entry without damaging the door and therefore bringing unwanted attention from the police. That, in turn, would entail all the residents being interviewed and ran the risk of him being captured.

No, he would have to hope someone would either gain access or leave the building legitimately. But he had to remain out of sight, yet close, as he'd only have a few seconds to slip through the door as it slowly closed.

His chance came at four am.

A group of three women and three men, leaving a party, came talking and laughing down the corridor, buzzing the door open. Ivan, hiding in thick foliage a few feet away, waited until the last person had exited, then quickly sprinted up to the door and squeezed through the closing gap, none of the revellers even noticing him.

He made his way to Belinda's apartment and, using his set of skeleton keys, let himself in.

All he could do then was lie low and wait for her to return.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At Winfield Hall that Saturday morning, Harry woke up and, eyes still closed, reached for Dempsey only to find an empty space where he should have been lying. Sliding out of bed and putting on a pair of pyjama bottoms, T shirt and slippers, she threw open the curtains and marvelled for a moment at the stunning vista before her eyes.

As the temperature had dropped to minus three overnight, it had left the countryside coated in a thick blanket of frost, the trees, gardens and hedgerows looking as though they'd been painted in glistening white, leaving them sparkling in the weak sunshine, the backdrop of a clear, pale blue sky completing the wintry, Christmas card scene.

Sighing with happiness at the breathtaking sight, she made her way down to the dining room, expecting to see Dempsey tucking into breakfast.

Finding it empty she started searching the vast house for him, eventually locating him in the ballroom with Freddy.

"Here you are!" she said, putting an arm around his waist and kissing him. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Mornin' princess." he replied, pulling her to him and returning her kiss. "Jus' coverin' a few bases with Freddy."

"Like what, darling?" she asked, breaking away to kiss her father. "Good morning Daddy."

"Good morning Harriet, my love." replied Freddy, giving her a hug. "We were discussing where best to arrange things for tonight. Obviously the orchestra will play from the stage and..."

"Orchestra!?" exclaimed Harry, butting in. "You've organized an orchestra?"

"Yes my darling." said Freddy. "Didn't I say? It wouldn't be special without live music, now would it."

"No...no of course not." replied Harry, almost stumped for words. She always knew her father never did things by halves but an orchestra was the last thing she expected.

Nevertheless, she loved the idea.

"Daddy how fabulous!" she said, hugging him more. "How big an orchestra is it?"

"Well it's not the London Philharmonic!" replied Freddy, smiling. "That would be rather over the top. No, it's more a chamber orchestra with about thirty to thirty-five musicians."

"I don't know what to say." she said, smiling. "It's a wonderful idea."

"No need to say anything, Harry." he replied. "Your mother and I had a similar sized orchestra at our reception in this very room. And, no, I didn't want one here for your marriage to Mister Makepeace. Somehow, it didn't seem...appropriate."

"No, indeed. And thank God you didn't!" said Harry, putting her arm back round Dempsey's waist and cuddling up to him. "Because now, it's the crowning glory on _our _wedding and makes it absolutely unique, which is what I always dared to dream it would be. And - that the last time ever was when you and Mummy married ...well...it makes it very, very special. Thank you Daddy."

"No need to thank me either, I actually want them here just as much as you do!" he chuckled. "Anyway, we'll have a disco too, I'm sure the DJ can squeeze all his gubbins in somewhere."

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, the buffet will be in the dining room, I assume?" asked Harry, and following a nod from Freddy, continued. "I think we should have plenty of tables and chairs in here though since this is where most of the evening will be spent. By the way, when are the caterers due?"

"Nine o'clock, so in about an hour." replied Freddy, checking his watch. "Anyone for breakfast?"

"You bet!" said Dempsey, letting go of Harry and patting his stomach.

"You and your food!" said Harry, chuckling at him, then whispering as, arm in arm, they followed Freddy through to the dining room. "Anyone would think you worked up an appetite last night - not!"

"Anyone _would have _given the chance!" replied Dempsey, quietly. "Besides a few regular martini's, you packed away a bottle an' a half of champagne all by yourself!"

"I was excited! Anyway, I distinctly remember kissing you as you undressed me." she whispered.

"You remember falling asleep standin' up!?" chuckled Dempsey.

"No? Did I?" replied Harry, stopping in her tracks and staring at him. "Did I really? No. I don't remember that at all. And I feel fine this morning, no hangover. Amazing!"

"No justice in that! But I rest my case." said Dempsey. grinning at her.

"What did you do with me, anyway?" she asked, her eyes watching his reaction.

"When?" he asked.

"Last night you idiot! When I fell asleep standing up, according to you!"

"I undressed you and put you to bed." he smiled.

"Weren't you tempted to wake me up and molest me all night?" she giggled.

"Hell no!" replied Dempsey, looking her in the eye. "You were out for the count!"

She wound her arms round his waist, pulling him closer, his musky fragrance never failing to ignite her passion.

"We could make up for it after breakfast, couldn't we." she whispered. "After all, we do have an excuse to go back to our room. We need to get properly dressed."

"I'd better have a full English in that case, tiger!" he grinned. "Sounds like I'm gonna need to keep my strength up!"

"You'll need to keep up more than just your strength!" she giggled, suggestively. "But leave that to me!"

"You're an insatiable minx, Mrs Dempsey." he growled, playfully.

"And it's all your fault, Mr Dempsey." she laughed, kissing him again. "Come on, breakfast!"

Strolling into the spacious dining room, a crackling, spitting log fire Abbott had lit earlier roaring in the fireplace, they found Gloria already enjoying American style pancakes, dripping in syrup with a cup of black coffee steaming away next to her.

"Hey love birds." she said, as they began filling their individual plates from an array of choice, Dempsey going the whole hog, Harry watching and giggling at him, while she opted for a brace of kippers.

"Mornin' Ma." greeted Dempsey as he sat down opposite her, Harry sitting next to him. "You sleepin' okay in this place?"

"James! I really don't think that's a question you should ask your mother." chastised Harry, slapping his arm lightly.

"Why not?" asked Dempsey. "She always struggles with insomnia when she's away from home, don't you Ma."

"Yeah, it's true Harry, Jimmy's right." said Gloria. "But I have ta say, my bed is so soft an' comfortable I'm sleepin' like a baby!"

"See honey?" said Dempsey, smiling as if in victory. "She's sleepin' like a baby!"

"Er, don't you go twisting this round, James Dempsey!" said Harry. "If Glo _was _finding it difficult to sleep, the last thing she'd want, is to have it broadcast to all and sundry. I wouldn't. I'd be embarrassed if my hosts found out."

"But she ain't findin' it difficult." replied Dempsey, hunching his shoulders, arms at half stretch, elbows partly bent, palms turned upwards and looking as if he was carrying an invisible load. "Is she sleepin' or is she sleepin', huh?"

"She's sleeping, but that's not the point." said an increasingly exasperated Harry.

"Well it is the point, honey, 'cos she's sleepin' okay." replied Dempsey, Freddy quietly chuckling at how Dempsey was managing to twist her into knots. However, he thought it best to change the subject before she became completely bamboozled.

"Glo, there will be an orchestra playing for us this evening." he announced. "I trust you'll do me the honour of allowing me to take you on the floor."

Harry nearly spat her kipper out.

"Daddy I think you should rephrase that." she said, glancing at him but, noting his bewildered look, knew instantly the euphemism was lost on him. "Never mind. What sort of music will they be playing?"

"Oh well, quite a mixture." replied Freddy, his bright blue eyes shining with anticipation. "We will have a differing age range present what with uncles, aunties, cousins and family friends so Glen Miller, Bert Kaempfert, James Last."

"Wow, that's some range." remarked Dempsey. "This orchestra able to recreate all those different sounds, Freddy?"

"Apparently so. They come highly recommended, James." he replied.

"Well, I'd love to dance with you Freddy." said Glo, smiling across at him. "An' I won' care what they're playin'."

At that point, Aunt Alice breezed in.

"Good morning darlings!" she said. "Everyone sleep well?"

"Oh, don't you start!" replied Harry.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In Bayswater, by eleven in the morning, the abandoned Nissan Bluebird had already been found. Seeing a taxi stationary for several hours in the road where it was parked had alerted some residents to it, so one or two reported it to the police.

Spikings had been notified too, so he had instructed it to be taken to the SI-10 compound and dusted for prints.

In the office he, along with Chas, Jaimie and Josh, were going through Ivan's overnight bag, together with his false passport and identity papers.

"Is this chap for real, sir?" asked Josh as he studied the passport photograph. "I mean, he looks like an albino. Could that be a disguise?"

Spikings took it off him and stared closely at it.

"His eyes are certainly a very pale blue." he remarked. "Which are consistent with albino's but there again, they could be coloured lenses."

"Sir, he's an albino, no doubt about it." said Chas.

"What makes you so sure, Chas?" asked Spikings.

"Look at his eyelashes." replied Chas. "They're white blonde! No-one goes to those lengths to disguise themselves."

"Yes, well spotted." said Spikings. "So what else do we have?"

"Judging by some of the witness descriptions, he's built like the proverbial brick shite house, sir." said Jaimie, pulling no punches. "Probably six two or three?"

"And he's no Dutch teacher either." said Chas. "I've checked his identity papers and a Hans Bensinck, answering his description, doesn't exist. Everything else checks out, the college, the address, they're all legit."

"It has all the hallmarks of a Secret Service. But whose?" said Spikings.

"Russia seems the obvious choice, sir." said Chas. "Unless this bloke is freelance and looking to sell to the highest bidder, that is. China, North Korea, Iran, Iraq, they would all be keen buyers of the sort of technology on offer."

"Hmmm, whoever this character is, we need to find him - and those bloody files!" replied Spikings. "I'll bring Dempsey and...er Dempsey up to speed this evening."

"Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it, sir." said Chas. "Dempsey and Dempsey."

"Not really no, Chas." agreed Spikings

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By coincidence, Harry and Dempsey were also about to discuss the same subject. Lying together in bed, their passion sated for a while, Harry, on her side with an arm in it's usual place across his chest, her head resting close to his, brought the subject up.

"James."

"Mmmm." he replied, eyes closed and nearly falling asleep.

"James, wake up." urged Harry, glancing up and nudging him.

"What honey?"

"Dempsey and Dempsey doesn't sound right."

"What!?" he said, opening his eyes and looking down at her.

"No I don't mean in the marriage sense, you big dope." she giggled, playing with the hairs on his chest as was the norm. "I mean in the work sense."

"Don' get it." he replied. "Whaddya mean 'in the work sense'?"

"It's dangerous for one thing."

"Dangerous? Why dangerous?"

"Well for a start, if the characters we have to deal with on a daily basis found out we were married, don't you think that would make us extra worthy targets?"

"Yeah, I see where ya comin' from, princess." he said, turning onto his side so as to look into her eyes. "They'd be able ta get at either of us an' use our lives as a lever."

"Exactly." she replied, her face inches from his. "And anyway, I think it would be right to separate my private life from that of my working life. I think I should go to work as Sergeant Makepeace and come home as Mrs Dempsey. What do you think?"

"Makes sense, honey." he replied, beginning to kiss her lips, his hands beginning to stroke her before switching to just fingers lightly caressing her skin.

She was tingling again.

"That breakfast has certainly given you wings, darling." she whispered as they both flew back onto cloud nine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

Ivan was woken up, first by the telephone ringing, but no message being left, followed by a loud knocking and ringing at the door.

"Belinda!? _Belinda_! It's Sally, are you home?" came a voice. Then silence.

Sally was a fellow model whose flat was directly below Belinda's. They had an agreement with each other - that if one of them was going to be away for the weekend, either on a date or photo shoot, she would leave a forwarding telephone number in case of emergences.

She had been alerted to the possibilty of someone being in the flat above her when Ivan accidently dropped a glass, but she'd heard nothing since, so assumed it'd been her imagination.

But then she could swear she heard somebody moving about and deliberated as to what to do. She wanted it to be Belinda, so telephoned, only to hear Belinda's recorded message. And since knocking on the door and ringing the bell hadn't illicited a response, she assumed she'd be with Hugo, so dialled his number.

He and Belinda were still in bed together when the 'phone rang.

"Hello." he answered. "Who's speaking please?"

"Oh hi Hugo, sorry to bother you. It's Sally? Belinda's friend?" she explained. "I live in the flat below hers?"

"Yes, hello Sally. Belinda's right here, I'll pass you over." replied Hugo, handing the portable handset across to a waiting Belinda.

"Hi Sal." she greeted, wondering what the problem might be.

"Hi Bel." replied Sally. "Listen, I think someone's in your flat! I'm sure I heard a glass break."

Belinda instantly knew it was Ivan. 'Jesus! He's broken in!' she thought.

Thinking quickly, she replied.

"Oh, it's probably 'Pudding'."

"Pudding!?" repeated Sally. "Who, or what, is Pudding?"

"He's a big fat moggie who's recently adopted me." replied Belinda, stretching the lie further. "Suddenly showed up over Christmas, hence the name I've given him. Pudding? As in Christmas pudding? He comes and goes all the time. Clumsy thing's probably been wandering about looking for something to eat and knocked a cup or a vase over. I leave a window partly open for him all the time."

"Oh, that's a relief." said Sally, clearly pleased at the simple explanation. "You still back tomorrow night?"

"Might be. But definitely Monday morning. I'm in the studio at ten." replied Belinda, reaching her hand down between Hugo's legs under the bedclothes. "Depends on Hugo here. He may be enjoying me too much."

"Ooh you dirty cow!" chuckled Sally. "There's a name for nympho's like you."

"Oh yeah? What?" sniggered Belinda.

"Lucky bitch! That's what!" replied Sally, still laughing as she switched out the call.

"What was all that about a fat cat called Pudding?" asked Hugo, as he took the phone off her, but not all that interested in the answer, seeing as Belinda had started working on him in earnest, her seduction deliberate so as to deflect him from asking any more awkward questions.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Throughout the day at Winfield Hall, the caterers had been busy setting the place up for later, with the steady arrival of the musicians adding to what appeared to be organized chaos.

Satisfied that all was, in fact, well under control, Freddy suggested after lunch, that they went for a walk. So, he and Dempsey, wrapped up in their Barbour waxed jackets and wollen headgear, Alice, Glo and Harry in warm overcoats and fur hats, all five sporting long, thick scarves and sturdy walking boots, ventured out into the cold, crisp countryside.

Freddy's recently acquired, nine month old, golden labrador puppies, Gunner and Blondie, who were brother and sister, came too. He'd been offered them by the local dog rescue centre, they having been abandoned when only a few weeks old.

As dusk was falling they'd returned and were now sipping glasses of piping hot punch in the drawing room, a log and coal fire burning brightly in the enormous fire place, the two tired out dogs lying flat out in front of it, sleeping peacefully in the warmth, occasionally emitting tiny high pitched barks, their hind legs twitching as they chased rabbits in their dreams.

"I really enjoyed that." said Harry, her cheeks glowing and looking healthy from the crisp, winter air. "No biting wind either. Lovely and still!"

"What time does the pardy start, Freddy?" asked Glo, dipping the ladle into the punch bowl and refilling her glass.

"Eight o'clock." replied Freddy. "But people are rarely on time. I'd say the party will be fully under way by nine at the latest."

"You got many comin'?" she asked, sipping her drink.

"About two hundred." replied Freddy.

"Sheesh, the place'll be bouncin'!" said Glo, smiling broadly. "Bedder think 'bout gettin' my gladrags on soon."

"Yes good idea." agreed Harry, strolling over to Dempsey's side and kissing him. "I'm going for a long soak in the bath, darling."

"Okay honey." he replied. "See ya later."

"I think I'll do the same." announced Alice. "When one gets to my age, one needs plenty of time to look one's best. Toodleoo, see you later."

"I'll get goin' too." said Glo, finishing her punch. "Bedder get ya dancin' shoes on Freddy, honey - I'm gonna be keepin' ya busy on that dance floor!"

"I'll be ready for you, have no fear!" replied Freddy, laughing as she disappeared out of the room. "Your mother's quite a lady, James. I've grown rather fond of her these last few weeks. I hope that doesn't present any problems for you."

"No way Freddy." replied Dempsey, smiling at him. "Ya know, after my Pa died, I kinda resented her goin' out with any other guys. An' we had a lotta fights over it. But, I guess, as I came to terms with it, I sorta knew she needed a man in her life. Hell, we all need someone to love an' share stuff with, don' we."

"Of course we do. Life can be very lonely otherwise." said Freddy. "Does she have anyone special in New York?"

"None that she's admitted to." chuckled Dempsey. "But, we don' talk that much an' I guess if she did have some guy back home, she maybe wouldn't tell me anyway. But hey, if there was anyone I'd be happy to see her with, it'd be you. I mean that."

"That's good to know, James, thank you." replied Freddy. "Do you think Harry would have any objections?"

"Harry will always be happy knowing you are, Freddy." said Dempsey. "She saw some kinda spark between you an' Ma way back in Puerto Rico at our first pardy. She thought it was great."

"Marvellous." said Freddy, clearly relieved and shaking his hand.

They continued talking for a while, finished off the punch, then walked through the house checking that everything was in place, stopping in the ballroom and listening to the orchestra as they tuned up before running through a couple of numbers.

With the time approaching seven o'clock they retired to their rooms to get ready for the evening's festivities. Harry was sitting at her dressing table, one towel wrapped around her head, another around her body when Dempsey walked in.

"Hi darling." she greeted, as she started applying a little eyeliner. "What have you been doing for the last hour or so?"

"Talkin' over things with Freddy." he answered, stripping down to his boxers. "An' checkin' out the place. That orchestra's great, Harry."

"I'm looking forward to our dancing to them." she said, unable to ignore his tanned physique reflected in her mirror. "So, what sort of things were you talking about?"

"For one thing, he's gettin' keen on Ma." replied Dempsey, wrapping a towel around his middle.

"I knew it!" said Harry, putting down her eyeliner pencil and smiling at him. "Didn't I tell you he liked her when they met?"

"Yep, you sure did honey." replied Dempsey, returning her smile. "An' he's been a little worried, I guess, at our reaction."

"I hope you told him he'd nothing to concern himself with on _that _score!" said Harry, staring at him through her mirror.

"Yeah 'course!" he replied. "I said so long as he's happy, you are, an' I have no problem with it anyhow."

"Good." said Harry, returning to her eyeliner, his muscled chest and six pack, part covered in soft, black hair, in the corner of her eye. "Go and shower before I lose my resolve and ravish you!"

"Yes Ma'am." he replied, grinning at her and disappearing into their en-suite bathroom.

When he emerged, she stopped him in his tracks.

Wearing an electric blue, strapless evening dress in delicate chiffon, with a plunge sweetheart neckline, a ruched, fitted bodice, satin waistband and soft pleating, all accentuated by her tanned skin and sun bleached blonde hair, she looked breathtakingly beautiful.

"Jesus!" was all he could say and stood motionless as this goddess in blue strolled towards him.

"Will I do?" she teased, knowing what was coming next. "And yes I am, before you check. I expect a few elderly uncles will no doubt want to dance with me and their hands can sometimes go a'wandering."

He took hold of her hips and pulled her to him, the exquisite smell of her freshly washed skin filling his senses.

"Well honey, if anyone's hands 're goin' wanderin' they'll be mine." he smiled, sliding them down her thighs, a sudden look of recognition all over his face.

"You wearin' suspenders?" he asked, his voice suddenly husky.

"Mmm. And black stockings." she whispered, his excitement infectious. "Your hands can go wandering over me, _much_ later."

She tapped the end of his nose and kissed him. "You'd better get dressed while I put the finishing touches to my make-up."

Fifteen minutes later they were both ready, Dempsey in his white tuxedo and the air heavy with Harry's Chanel No5. Arm in arm, they strolled into the lounge, where Freddy, Alice and Glo were sipping champagne.

"You two sure do scrub up well!" said Glo, admiration written all over her face.

"What a _gorgeous_ couple you make!" agreed Alice, stepping in between them and taking an arm each in hers.

"Champagne?" asked Freddy, approaching with two flutes in one hand, a bottle of Krug in the other.

"Yes thank you Daddy." replied Harry, taking her glass, Dempsey the other and tilting them to one side as he poured out the wine.

Freddy raised his glass.

"To Harry and James." was the simple toast, repeated by the two ladies.

As Freddy had predicted earlier, the party was in full flow by nine o'clock, he, Harry, Dempsey, Glo and Alice spending the first hour standing in a line and welcoming the guests as they arrived.

By ten thirty, everyone had eaten and gravitated to the ballroom, Freddy standing on the stage, officially thanking them all for coming and confirming that their donations, in lieu of presents, were going to UNICEF, of whom Harry was a patron. He finished by introducing both the orchestra and DJ.

Harry and Dempsey opened the dancing by smooching to Glen Miller's 'Moonlight Serenade', the orchestra sounding so like the original, everyone gave them a standing ovation. Following that with 'In The 'Mood', they'd packed the dance floor within minutes.

For the next two hours, neither Harry nor Dempsey saw anything of each other, both being sidelined by strings of people. But like any couple in tune and in love with other, each always knew where the other was. Harry was monopolized by family and some old friends wanting chapter and verse about her wedding on Necker, Dempsey by many wanting to get to know him and enjoying being regaled with stories of his years with the NYPD.

They both had to be liberal with the truth regarding how they met, but had rehearsed their story and anyway, there weren't many who hadn't been at their engagement party, so the explanations only involved a few.

Belinda, wearing a black halter neck dress, with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination, the left side slit up to the top of her thigh had been turning heads all night. In the case of the males, they just fantasized spending half and hour with her, the females knowing a tramp when they saw one.

Dempsey, finding himself momentarily alone, had taken the opportunity of grabbing a whisky and sat down at a vacant table, looking around and spotting Harry dancing with a man old enough to be her grandfather.

'Poor fish' he thought. 'Bet she's bustin' to rest her feet.'

He pulled another chair close to him and was about to try and catch Harry's attention, when a worse for wear Belinda, carrying a bottle of champagne and a half filled glass, sat down on it, crossing her legs, her dress falling open and exposing all of her thigh. She lent towards him, her full breasts looking as if they would break free at any moment and concentrated on placing the bottle on the table, managing it at the third attempt.

"Great pardy." she slurred, her eyes trying to focus on his, while swigging her drink.

"Yeah, glad you're enjoyin' yourself." he replied. "Where's Hugo?"

"Oh, I dunno. Dancing?" she replied, her glazed eyes all over him.

"Don' ya care?" he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Am not the jealush chype, babe." she slurred again, taking his hand. "Will you dance with me?"

"I don' wanna appear rude, Belinda." replied Dempsey, gently removing her hand. "But I'm jus' takin' a break an' waitin' for Harry. So I'll pass on that dance."

"Later maybe?" she said, not fazed by Dempsey's rejection one bit. "I fine you really, really, _really_ attractive, yer know that?"

"Yeah?" replied Dempsey, knowing nothing was to be gained by getting annoyed with her.

He was saved by Angela who happened to be passing by and noticed Belinda swaying in her chair.

"Oh dear." she said, looking at Dempsey and nodding towards Belinda. "Someone's enjoying themselves a tad too much."

She winked at him, then said.

"Er, James, Harry's been looking for you. I think she's with Joyce over by the bar. Why don't you go and join her."

"Oh right, thanks, I will." he replied, rolling his eyes to the heavens as he left them.

Angela took his chair and sat down.

"Hugo not around, Belinda?" she asked.

"Not seen him." she replied, grabbing the bottle of champagne and failing miserably to refill her glass. Angela gently relieved her of it.

"I'll get you some coffee, Belinda." she said. "Looks like you could do with a pot or two."

"Coffee!?" exclaimed Belinda, getting to her feet and swaying then waving as she tottered away. "I want more champers!"

Angela watched her go and shook her head. 'Takes all sorts' she thought and set about finding Ollie.

Meanwhile Dempsey had found Harry talking to Spikings and his wife Mary.

"Hey Chief, Mrs Spikings." he greeted as he walked up to them. "Not seen my wife have you?"

Harry poked him in the ribs, giggling at him.

"Well whaddya know, here she is!" he grinned, their arms finding each other's waist as they kissed one another. "Hey stranger."

"It's always the way, isn't it." said Mary Spikings, smiling at them both. "When you're the hosts, you're rarely together."

"Yeah, I've not spoken to this lady for at least two hours." he said, smiling at Harry. "Say, you enjoyin' the pardy?"

"Oh yes!" replied Mary. "Gordon and I haven't danced so much in years, have we dear."

"No indeed dear." replied Spikings, not altogether comfortable with admitting it. "The music's very good though, not often one gets the opportunity to dance to a live orchestra."

"My parents had one at their reception in this very room." said Harry, proudly. "It makes it very special."

"Who is the dark haired lady your father's been dancing most of the night with?" asked Mary. "They seem quite close."

"My mother." replied Dempsey, noting Spiking's look of surprise. "Yeah, they've kinda hit it off."

Just then the orchestra's conductor announced a medley of James Last hits.

"Come on Gordon." she said. "I love James Last." And with that she slipped her arm through his and walked onto the dance floor.

"Well now, Mr Dempsey." said Harry, cuddling into him. "What have you been up to, other than being surrounded most of the night?"

"Huh! Jus' been tryin' to deal with a drunk Belinda." he said. "Angela rescued me."

Harry felt her hackles rising. She'd spotted Belinda flirting her way around the place and had decided she really didn't have a lot of time for her.

"Yes, she certainly seems to have been making a spectacle of herself." she muttered, then groaned as the lady herself negotiated her way towards them. "Oh God, talk of the devil!"

"Hey here you are." said Belinda, her eyes fixed on Dempsey. "You gonna dance with me now?"

Harry glared at her, swallowed her anger and smiled sweetly.

"No, he's going to dance with me." she said. "_His wife_!"

"Oh, I wish my Ivan was here." said Belinda, suddenly.

"Ivan?" asked Harry. "Who's Ivan?"

"My lover! My big blonde, beautiful malysh!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

Harry steered Dempsey away and onto the dance floor, leaving Belinda to seek out another victim.

"What on earth does 'malysh' mean?" she queried, putting her arms around his neck as they swayed into the rhythym. "And who's Ivan?"

"Beats me, princess." replied Dempsey, looking into her eyes and sliding his hands from her waist to her hips. "Jesus, but you're beautiful."

She pulled his head down to her and kissed his lips, pressing her body into him.

"I love you." she whispered, looking up into his eyes, only to be interrupted by Hugo, dancing with Arabella.

"Hey you two." he said. "Have either of you seen Belinda? I seem to have mislaid her."

"Yeah we were jus' talkin' to her." replied Dempsey. "I gotta warn ya though, she's kinda slurrin' her words, right now."

"Oh God." groaned Hugo. "You mean she's pissed!"

"Well, yeah." replied Dempsey.

"Sorry Arabella, I'd better see if I can find her." sighed Hugo, as he left on his search.

"Poor Hugo." said Arabella. "He's really not having much luck with the ladies lately, is he? Anyway, fab party Harry."

"Thanks. Er, Arabella. You and Rupert are pretty close to Hugo, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, we've known him for years, although Rupert's been friends with him since school. Why do you ask?" replied Arabella.

"So, would you have any idea who Ivan might be?" asked Harry, ignoring answering her.

"Ivan?" repeated Arabella. "No idea. Why?"

"Does Hugo have a pal called Ivan?" asked Dempsey.

"No, not that I know of. I'm sure he'd have said so, unless he's a client." mused Arabella. "Why all the questions about this Ivan, anyway?"

"Belinda's just mentioned him." said Harry. "She's said he's her lover."

"Her lover!? Belinda has!?" replied Arabella, obviously surprised. "Oh my God. I've no idea how she knows him. Should I mention it to Hugo, do you think?"

"I think you should, yes." said Harry. "But not tonight. Belinda's had a lot to drink. I'd speak to Hugo about it in the cold light of day. He needs to confront her when she's sober."

"Yes you're right." agreed Arabella, keeping her voice low. "Mind you, Rupert won't be surprised. He thinks she's none better than a high class prostitute anyway!"

"Then don't tell him tonight either." warned Harry. "It'll only lead to tears. You know how they like to wind each other up!"

"No, okay. I'll mention it on the way home tomorrow, I think." agreed Arabella, who, along with Rupert, Angela, Ollie, Hugo and Belinda were staying the night. "I'll go and find him. And, don't worry, I shan't say anything."

"Now, where were we." said Harry, after Arabella had left them, putting her arms back round Dempsey's neck and snuggling into him again as they resumed dancing. "Oh yes, I was telling you I love you."

"You know what I'd like to do right now, Mrs Dempsey?" his voice low as he ran his forefinger down her spine, knowing it would send her wild.

"Oh God, I can guess." she replied, her eyes closed, her body trembling at his touch.

"I wanna take you to our room, undress you real slow, 'til you're naked in front of me." he whispered in her ear. "Then I'd lay you on the bed, an' kiss every inch of your body 'til you begged me to make love to you, an' we wouldn't stop 'til dawn."

She moaned, then let out a deep sigh, running her fingernails around the nape of his neck, before pulling his face down to kiss his lips again."You'd better make good on that promise, Mr Dempsey." she whispered, her lips now playing with his. "Because I can promise you, I won't be falling asleep again, standing up!"

Dempsey burst out laughing, Harry giggling at him too.

"You sure know how to wreck a moment!" he laughed, taking her hand and leading her off the dance floor.

"Makes no difference though, I'm still turned on like mad!" she replied, squeezing his hand. "Come on, you big hunk, buy me a Martini."

In the meantime, Hugo had gone in search of Belinda and eventually found her draped across the lap of an elderly peer, his hand resting on her naked thigh, her arm around his neck, his eyes never far away from her bust.

"What are you doing?" asked Hugo, addressing them both for good measure and swallowing his rising jealousy, anger not far behind.

"Babe!" she exclaimed, her eyes struggling to find his. "Here you are! Meet my friend Johnny. He's got a yacht in Cannes, you know."

"Really." replied Hugo, glaring at the old duffer.

"Are you her boyfriend, old man?" he said, looking up at Hugo.

"Yes!" he replied, smartly.

"Then have her back, if you would." he said. "I'm sorry but she just plonked herself on my lap. Appeared as if by magic."

"Seems you're making the most of it though, doesn't it, sir." replied Hugo, taking hold of Belinda's hand and pulling her to her feet, steadying her before she fell over.

She flung her arms around his neck and began kissing him.

"Oh babe, where have you been!?" she demanded. "I've missed you!"

"Yes, it looks like it!" he said, sarcasm oozing with every word. "I'm here now."

"Sorry old boy." said the peer, guiltily, sheepishly.

"Yeah, you look it!" replied Hugo as he part carried, part walked Belinda away, sitting her down on a chair, whereby she placed her arms on the table and rested her head on them, almost instantly asleep.

Hugo growled, left her and went outside for some air.

Having strolled over to the bar, Dempsey ordered Harry's martini followed by a whisky for him, then found an empty table, lighting his first cigar of the day.

"You're doing well." said Harry, who'd been trying to get him to cut down on his smoking, knowing it was toxic and bad for him. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks honey." he replied. "I don' think I'll ever give 'em up fully, but I guess limitin' em' is a happy compromise?"

"I suppose so." she smiled, knowing him so well, never one to nag or labour a point in the knowledge it would simply make him dig his heels in.

Not long after they'd sat down, Spikings joined them.

"I don't wish to talk shop at all, not at the occasion celebrating your recent nuptials." he said, sitting down next to them. "But this is connected. You see, I'm not sure what to call you Harry, I..."

"Sir." she interrupted. "James and I have already discussed this. I'd like to retain my previous surname as far as my career is concerned. After work, I'm Mrs Dempsey but in SI-10, I'd like to remain Sergeant Makepeace."

"You agree with this James?" asked Spikings, looking him in the eye.

"Sure Chief." he replied, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "For one thing, we don' want those badass mothers out there knowin' we're married. That'd put us at a disadvantage."

"Yes, quite agree." nodded Spikings. "Good, that's settled then."

"While we're talkin' shop, boss, any news on that missin' file?"

"Not on the actual file, no, that's still awol." replied Spikings. "But we've gleaned some info on the killer. We think he's a Russian. If it were the Chinese behind the theft of that file, we're sure they'd use one of their own to smuggle it. And seeing as the only other likely culprits would be Russia, we're hoping we've put two and two together and made four. This fellow is six foot two, very fit, in fact he looks pretty formidable, and he's an albino."

"You sure 'bout that?" questioned Dempsey, blowing a perfect smoke ring and watching it dissolve into nothing. "Disguises 're pretty good these days, an' it don' take much ta dye ya hair or change the colour of ya eyes."

"No, he's an albino. Right down to his eyelashes." replied Spikings. "It's not easy to change the colour of those. And they are white blonde. His skin is almost translucent too."

"That could mean he'll definitely disguise himself then, sir." replied Harry. "He'll be too distinctive otherwise."

"Any clues as to his nationality?" asked Dempsey, nodding at Harry's point.

"Only guesses. Look, it isn't the time or occasion to be discussing this." said Spikings. "Some of the lads are keeping up to speed with any developments, so a full debrief can wait until Monday."

"Yes alright sir." said Harry.

"Congratulations to you both. If anyone had told me when I paired you two that you'd marry each other, I'd have had them committed!" smiled Spikings. "It's been a splendid evening, the memsahib is thoroughly enjoying herself!"

"He's not so bad, is he darling." remarked Harry after he'd gone.

"He has his moments, but I guess you're right, honey." agreed Dempsey, his cigar now fixed to the side of his mouth. "Did I ever tell ya he had somethin' to do with us actually gettin' together as a couple?" **(see 'Guardian Angel - revisited)

"No, you didn't." she replied, all ears. "Come on, tell me."

"Remember when you resigned an' went off ta work in that museum?" said Dempsey.

Harry nodded. "Yes, how can I forget!"

"Spikings took me to a pub, bought me a beer an' told me you'd probably gone, cos' you'd feelin's for me." said Dempsey, taking hold of her hand again.

"He was right." she said, remembering how confused she'd been and how the fact she'd fallen in love with him would impact on their careers.

"I know." he agreed. "An' when the penny dropped, that's when I knew I had to come getcha!"

"I'll never forget that night." said Harry, stroking his hand. "You screaming up in the car and us yelling at each other through my front door. But something in your voice made me open it and when I saw your eyes were misty and full of tears, I just melted. And I've been melting ever since!"

"An' you sure gonna melt later, too." he grinned.

She giggled as she lent across and kissed him, took his cigar out of his mouth, then his hand and pulled him to his feet as the DJ opened his set with 'Holding 'Back The Years', one of their all time favourites.

As they came together and stepped into the slow, sensual rythym, her head to one side and resting on his chest, Harry slipped her hands under his jacket and around his waist, pulled his shirt out and lightly stroked his lower back with the tips of her fingers, smiling as he let out a soft groan of pleasure.

After Hugo had stepped outside to give himself time to think things through, he returned inside and sought out his old friend Rupert. They went up to Hugo's room to talk and where they wouldn't be interrupted.

"What's up chum?" asked Rupert, although he had a pretty good idea, having witnessed Belinda's blatant antics all night. "It's Belinda, isn't it."

"Yes." replied Hugo, clearly upset and dejected. "She's just embarrassed me so much tonight, throwing herself at any man that just glanced at her!"

"What are you going to do?" asked Rupert, seeing little point in giving him his opinion of her, especially as it would a pretty brutal one.

"She hasn't left me with much of a choice, has she." replied Hugo, searching Rupert's face for any hint of an alternative suggestion. None was there.

"No old friend, she hasn't." said Rupert. "Listen Hugo, you're a good guy. You're wealthy, good looking, honest, you're one hell of a catch. It'll happen, you'll meet a great girl, just see if you don't. As for Belinda, she doesn't deserve you."

Hugo held out his hand, Rupert taking hold of it and shaking it. "Thanks buddy." said Hugo "I know what I've got to do."

By three-thirty in the morning the guests had left, everyone having enjoyed themselves immensely, leaving the original Necker group, except, Freddy, Glo and Alice who'd long since retired, chatting over coffee in the lounge, the two labradors, wide awake and the centre of attention, wagging their tails and inviting neverending fuss.

"Who's hungry?" asked Harry, smiling round at everyone. "I thought I'd whip up some eggs and bacon. Who wants scrambled and who wants fried eggs? Orders please."

"I'll help you." said Angela, when all but Belinda, who was asleep in an armchair, raised their hands.

"I'll come too." volunteered Joyce.

In the kitchen, as she washed out the coffee pots and brewed some more fresh coffee, Angela mentioned how Belinda had been behaving.

"She's been as drunk as a skunk all bloody night, Harry." she said. "And flirting with anything in a pair of trousers!"

"Tell me about it." replied Harry, breaking eggs into a frying pan. "She had the audacity to ask James for a dance in front of me when he'd already told her he wasn't interested!"

"What did you say?" asked Joyce, opening the fridge door and pulling out a handful of bacon rashers, all wrapped up in cellophane.

"I told her he was about to dance with his wife!" replied Harry, Angela and Joyce both snorting with laughter, Harry seeing the funny side too and laughing as she switched on the grill. "The thing is, she admitted earlier she's got a lover called Ivan!"

"What!?" gasped Angela, her mouth falling open. "I presume Hugo knows nothing about it."

"Well of course he doesn't, Angela." replied Harry, surprised she even wondered. "Hugo would never put up with that. He's crazy about her."

"Yes he is. Poor sod." said Angela, then a thought struck her. "Does anyone else know?"

"Arabella does." replied Harry, as she laid out rashers of bacon on a tray and slid it all under the grill. "But we suggested she didn't tell Rupert, you know how competitive they both are. And Rupert thinks she's a tramp anyway."

Angela set about making the scrambled eggs, breaking the required amount into a saucepan, adding some milk and butter then switching on the hotplate. "You're right, Rupert mustn't know tonight. Do we know anything about this Ivan? What did Belinda say exactly?"

"She just said she wished her big, blonde, beautiful lover Ivan was here." remembered Harry. "Oh and she said some word - er - ma llysh it sounded like."

"What was that word?" asked Joyce.

"It sounded like ma-llysh?"

"That's Russian for little one or baby." said Joyce.

Harry stared at her.

"Russian? Are you sure, Joyce?" she asked .

"Yes, perfectly sure." she confirmed, giving Harry a look that said, 'can't say anymore for obvious reasons', Harry nodding that she understood why.

"But he does sound a bit of a dish though, doesn't he." giggled Angela, vigorously whipping the contents of the saucepan together. "Maybe we'll get to see this bloke some day."

"I doubt that, Angela." replied Harry. "I'd imagine Hugo will kick her out on her pretty little backside once he finds out!"

"Mind you, you have to admit she's stunning looking." remarked Joyce. "I mean talk about curvy and having everything in the right place. It's no wonder men fall at her feet."

"Yes, a shame she acts like a common slut though, isn't it." said Harry as she dished out a mixture of scrambled eggs, fried eggs and grilled bacon, depending on the order, onto seven pre-warmed plates. "Okay girls, we'll take this lot through to the dining room."

By four thirty, everyone was ready to go to bed, Hugo waking a sleepy, hungover Belinda and carrying her upstairs to their room.

With arms around each others waist, Dempsey and Harry strolled up to their room, the thrill of what was to come, exciting them both.

After he had closed the door to their bedroom, he turned round to see Harry standing in front of the bed and looking at him, her eyes simmering with delicious expectation.

No words were spoken.

Whilst kissing her lips, his hand went to the zip at the back of her dress and slowly, seductively drew it down as far as it would go, their eyes playing with each other as, with the faintest shrug of her shoulders, the gown slipped to the floor.

Kicking off her shoes at the same time, she was naked now, except for her white lace panties, suspender belt and a pair of sheer black stockings.

Both becoming breathless with anticipation, she slowly slipped the jacket from his shoulders, undid his bow tie, removed his cummerbund and loosened his trousers, her eyes still transfixed on his - eager, erotic, loving.

He let them fall to the ground, followed by his boxers and laid her, tenderly, on the bed. When he began to unclip her suspenders, she stopped him."Leave them." she whispered, brushing his lips with hers.

He smiled.

She gently lifted her hips off the bed and sighed softly as he slowly slid her panties down past her thighs and over her toes, then lay back, her body quivering with every sensual touch of his lips, her senses soaring with every brush of his fingers, her every nerve end smouldering.

He caressed her, cherishing her body until she could resist no longer and pulled him to her, crying out in ecstasy as their bodies fused, their passion ablaze until, hearts racing, they slowly descended into serenity and lay in each others arms panting, flushed and totally at peace.


	7. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7.**

Sunday started very quietly, most guests not down until close to lunchtime, only Freddy, Glo and Alice up in time for breakfast. The caterers had cleared up and disappeared, as had the DJ and musicians, so the house was back to normal by mid morning.

When Belinda stirred and woke up, still fully clothed, she found Hugo dressed with his bags packed.

"Babe?" she whispered, deliberately allowing her dress to part, exposing her partially open naked thighs. "Why are you up? Don't you want me this morning? Come back to bed, let me make you happy."

Hugo just stared at her, contempt written across his face.

"Get your things, we're leaving!" he said, quietly, grabbing his bag and walking out of the room.

Belinda stared after him and sat up, her head suddenly banging so hard she had to lie down again. She lay there wondering what she'd done to put him in this mood. Okay she'd got pretty drunk, but she'd been looking forward to making love to him last night, but since that hadn't happened, she'd felt sure they would have this morning.

'Maybe he's a bit hungover himself this morning.' she thought. 'Perhaps when he's eaten something he'll be back to his normal hunky self!'

She climbed out of bed, showered and dressed in a jumper and jeans, before packing her bag, still wrestling with why Hugo had been so off with her.

When Harry awoke, she looked down at her suspender belt and stockings, memories of the last few hours of steaming passion rushing back to her.

'Wasn't it only men supposed to be turned on by suspenders and stockings?' she thought.

Not in her case.

Wearing them had turned her on too and added another layer to their already intoxicating, satisfying, physical relationship. She'd rarely worn tights, or stockings even, under skirts, dresses and gowns or jeans, slacks and trousers seeing as her legs were naturally tanned, but last night had changed that.

She wouldn't overdo it in future, but they were certainly going to feature more.

'What with that and sometimes going commando too, he's going to think all his Christmases have come at once!' she giggled quietly to herself as she began stroking the hairs on his stomach, gently bringing him awake.

It wasn't long before they'd picked up where they'd left off and an hour or so later lay fulfilled and enriched once more in the rosy afterglow of their lovemaking.

"I wonder if there's going to be fireworks between Hugo and Belinda this morning." mused Harry, then remembered something from her conversation with Angela and Joyce in the kitchen.

"Oh James! Guess what mal-ysh stands for." she said, lifting herself onto one elbow and looking down at him.

"Yeah? What?" asked Dempsey, almost falling asleep again.

"It means baby or little one." replied Harry. "In Russian!"

Dempsey woke instantly and looked up at her.

"Russian?" he asked. "How d'ya know?"

"Joyce said so last night when we were in the kitchen." replied Harry, Joyce's knowledge not in question seeing as she worked for MI6 and came into contact with several foreign agents, many who worked undercover in Russia and the Balkan States. "You know what this could mean, don't you."

"You suggestin' this Ivan guy Belinda's pinin' for's connected to that missin' file?"

"I know it sounds incredible." said Harry. "But just think about it. Belinda said Ivan was big and _blonde _and spoke to her in Russian!"

"Hell yeah." said Dempsey, remembering the description Spikings had given them. "An' that matches the ID Spikings has. Have we just lucked in, Harry?"

"Might have. Who knows?" replied Harry. "Could be just coincidence. What should we do about it?"

"I guess the first thing is to get more info outta Belinda." he replied.

"That's pretty difficult with Hugo in earshot, Dempsey." said Harry, clearly in SI-10 mode for the moment.

"We might be able to split 'em up." replied Dempsey, looking straight at her. "No time like the present, _Makepeace_!"

She laughed at the touche and scampered through to the bathroom, squealing when it became clear the towel he was wrapping around his wrist was to be flicked at her naked bottom.

Showered and dressed, when they walked into the drawing room everyone was there, sipping orange juice or bloody Mary's, except Hugo and Belinda.

"Have Hugo and Belinda left already?" asked Harry.

"Yes Harriet." replied Rupert. "Hugo and I had a short heart to heart last night. He was pretty upset with her. He popped his head round the door this morning and said he was off. He sends his apologies for not seeing you and wants to call you at home tonight. Bella's also told me about this chap Ivan, but I've not mentioned him to Hugo."

"You reckon he's gonna dump her?" asked Dempsey.

"Looks highly likely, James." replied Rupert.

"Oh dear, I do hate it when two people fall out, darlings!" wailed Alice. "But then, she was a flirtatious little thing wasn't she."

"Rather too flirtatious, dear." said Freddy, who'd witnessed Belinda's antics during the party. "Quite a different girl to the one on Necker, I must say."

Just then Abbott knocked on the door and announced lunch was ready, so they took their places in the dining room and sat down to a full Sunday roast beef lunch with all the trimmings.

Back in the drawing room later, Rupert, Arabella, Joyce, Roger, Angela and Ollie were all saying their goodbyes, Harry, Dempsey, Freddy, Glo and Alice following them out to the driveway to wave them away, Ollie's Ferrari chasing Rupert's Aston Martin down the long drive, Roger gliding away in his Bentley, a forest of hands waving from various windows and a cacophony of air horns echoing into the distance.

"Well Harry, my darling." said Freddy, taking her to one side. "We three are going to take the dogs for a walk before it gets dark. I suppose you two will be making tracks."

"Yes Daddy." she replied, hugging him close. "Thank you for last night. It was just wonderful."

"It was, wasn't it." said Freddy, looking a little wistful. "Brought back some fond memories."

"Oh what, of you and Mummy." said Harry, her heart going out to him.

"Yes darling." he replied. "But I'm not sad. It was a long time ago. Life moves on."

"Are you going to move on with Glo?" she asked, a little tongue in cheek.

"We'll see." he replied. "Early days. She does have a life in New York, you know."

"Yes, of course she does." said Harry, then lowering her voice to a whisper. "But for what it's worth, we think you make a lovely couple."

"That's good to know." he whispered back, grinning. "I'll keep you both posted."

"Ok good. " giggled Harry at the sudden clandestine turn their conversation had taken.

Having packed the car, Dempsey and Freddy hugging each other like father and son, Alice and Glo with tears in their eyes, they motored home to London.

They'd invited Glo to stay with them the following weekend.

"We'll have to show her all the sights, James." said Harry, as they drove away, her hand out of the window waving at them. "Big Ben, Houses of Parliament, Oxford Street, Park Lane, Covent Garden, Regents Park and what about ticket for a show. 'Phantom of the Opera! She'd love that!"

"Yeah, good idea, honey." replied Dempsey. "We'll get onto that first thing. Now, I guess we could go straight to Belinda's place. We need to grill her so we can rule this Ivan in or rule him out."

"Yes okay." agreed Harry. "At least we might have something for Spikings tomorrow. You've got her address I presume."

"No honey." replied Dempsey. "I assumed you'd got it."

"Well why would I have it?! I didn't send all the invitations out, Daddy handled all that." she said, rolling her eyes to the roof. "Oh God, we can't stop and ask him for it, he's out walking the dogs."

"Hey relax, princess." said Dempsey. "Belinda ain't goin' nowhere tonight. We'll call Freddy when we're home, get the address an' go on over then. Okay?"

"Okay. Anyway, didn't Rupert say Hugo was calling later?" said Harry.

"Yeah but we don' wanna drag him into anythin' do we?" replied Dempsey. glancing across at her.

"No, you're right." agreed Harry. "It would just complicate things unnecessarily, wouldn't it."

Earlier in the day, during the drive home, Hugo had remained very quiet, but Belinda was having none of it.

"Hugo." she said, placing her hand high on his thigh."Why so quiet? Why so _angry_?!"

"It's over!" replied Hugo, not looking at her, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead, whilst he grabbed her hand and threw it back at her.

"Over? What, you and me over?" she said, alarmed at his reaction. "Why, what have I done?"

"You mean you don't know!?" replied Hugo, this time glancing across at her in astonishment.

"No babe, I don't" she said. "Tell me."

"Belinda, last night you were all over every man who merely glanced at you!" replied Hugo. "I found you draped over that chap, Johnny, who was old enough to be your grandfather, your dress all pulled up, his hands on your naked thighs. And, given half the chance, he'd have had your boobs out too. God knows, one of them had almost fallen out anyway!"

"Oh Hugo!" she replied. "Who was sleeping with me last night. Who was I going to make love to last night!?"

Hugo didn't answer.

"Come on!" urged Belinda, getting serious now. "Who!? Tell me, why don't you!"

"The way you were carrying on, it could have been _anybody_!" he growled.

It was her turn to remain quiet now.

"If I hadn't turned up when I did, how do I know that old guy wouldn't have had his hand in your knickers." he continued, all his pent up thoughts and suspicions spilling out. "How do I know you wouldn't have let him - and enjoyed it! You were so drunk. You made a real fool out of me."

There was silence in the car, Hugo breathing deeply to keep his temper under control.

He glanced across at Belinda.

She was quietly crying and his anger began to dissipate.

He pulled the car into a quiet lane and stopped, switching off the ignition, the only sound, the ticking of the hot engine cooling down behind them.

"I..I'm sor...sorry." she sobbed, eventually breaking the silence, her head bowed in shame. "I kn..know I.g..get dru..drunk very eas..easily sometimes an..and I kn..know wha..what I'm do..doing, bu..but I jus..just can..can't hel..help myself."

He reached across and put his arm around her, she leaning into him, sobbing ever harder at his comforting her.

He let out a deep sigh.

"Come on sweetheart." he said, quietly. "Okay, I'm sorry too. I don't know what got into you. You weren't at all like that on Necker."

Belinda was one of those girls who liked to have control in a relationship. If there was any dumping to be done, she would do it, not the other way round.

But in this case, Hugo had shocked her into knowing she was falling in love with him and her tears, together with realising she was about to lose him, were genuine.

Her relationship with Ivan was pure lust, totally physical. He brought the animal out in her and when they were in bed, or anywhere else for that matter, she couldn't get enough of him.

The difference with Hugo, was that with him she made love. With Ivan it was just sex.

But she'd had a blind spot and it hadn't registered that she was cheating on them.

That was changing though.

"Take me home." she said. "To your place? Please?"

Hugo had to admit it. He was in love with her and couldn't resist her.

Kissing her, he started the car and drove home, fast, pushing the Porsche, the acceleration and exhilaration of speed turning her on big time. When they arrived in his apartment, they undressed each other frantically, almost tearing each others clothes off, such was their fever for each other.

They remained in bed, making love to each other for the rest of the day, then dressed and went out for dinner. Before they'd left though, Hugo had called Harry and left a message when there was no answer, thanking her and James for the party, apologising for having left so abruptly and promising he'd ring again later.

By the time Harry and Dempsey arrived home, Freddy was back from his walk with the labradors and, having checked his address book, gave Harry Belinda's address and 'phone number. They'd also listened to Hugo's message, assumed he'd dropped Belinda off at her flat and had rung them when he got home.

"Should we call first or just turn up?" asked Harry.

"Just turn up." replied Dempsey, so they dropped their bags and went straight back out again.

However, after they'd found her apartment in Notting Hill, there was no answer when they pressed the buzzer.

"Where the hell is she!?" said Dempsey, exasperated, as he'd assumed an angry Hugo would have dropped her back by now.

Ivan had remained stock still when the bell had sounded.

"She may have talked Hugo round, James." suggested Harry, not knowing how accurate she was. "And if she has, she'll be with him now, so there's no point in confronting her while he's there."

"Why the hell not!?" replied Dempsey. "He needs to know what she's up to, doesn't he?"

"Yes he does." replied Harry. "But we've already agreed there's plenty of time for that. And anyway, what's the betting Rupert won't be in touch with him tomorrow and tell him everything. Surely that sort of news is better coming from an old friend, especially since Hugo confided in him last night."

"Yeah, okay princess, you're right I guess." he agreed, grinning at her and kissing her cheek. "Come on, let's go eat. What do you fancy?"

"You!" she replied, kissing him back.

"I said what not who!" he replied chuckling at her.

"I know." she replied, giggling at him and taking his hand as they returned to the car. "Er, Italian? French? Cantonese?"

"I never turn down pasta!" he said.

"Romano's then?"

"Perfect!"


	8. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

Belinda had to be in the studio for a ten o'clock photo shoot, so Hugo dropped her off at her apartment at eight, then went on to his office in the property development company he ran with his father, a multi-millionaire, who'd been in the business for forty years, but with heavy traffic didn't arrive until gone nine.

When she let herself in, it was with a feeling of excitement mixed with trepidation at seeing Ivan again. She had already made love with Hugo when they'd woken up and now wanted to shower and get ready for her appointment.

Ivan was lying in bed when she walked into her bedroom, his pale blue eyes looking her up and down, hungrily. He threw back the covers next to him and patted the bed.

"Come my little zaika, I've missed you." he said, his voice deep and husky.

"Oh Ivan baby." she replied. "I haven't got time, I have an appointment this morning and I need to get myself ready."

This was the first time she'd ever rejected him and Ivan didn't like it one bit.

"_Do as you're told_." he growled, menacingly, his eyes beginning to blaze. "I have been waiting _two days _for you!"

Belinda wasn't used to being ordered to have sex, she'd always enjoyed control over the men she slept with, only jumping into bed with them when it suited her and had been lucky none of them had forced her against her will.

But she hadn't reckoned on this physically powerful, and ruthless, KGB spy.

"Come here, _now_!" demanded Ivan, his short fuse burning low, the dynamite that was his anger about to explode, and it wasn't lost on her.

Frightened now, she pulled her jumper over her head, her large breasts, unencumbered by a brassiere, swinging free, Ivan's eyes all over them, his breathing quickening by the second. He became ever more breathless as she slid out of her jeans and finally her underwear and slipped into the bed next to him.

What happened next was tantamount to rape, the only difference being that she'd consented, the act itself as brutal as if she hadn't complied with his demands. She didn't enjoy it, she just lay there while he violated her body three times in succession, before finally rolling off her and lighting a cigarette.

In silence she slid out of the bed and disappeared into her bathroom, the tears flowing as soon as she closed the door, trying hard to stifle the sobs she couldn't stop. She felt dirty, used and utterly ashamed of herself, although anybody watching would have no sympathy for her - she'd literally made her bed and now she was having to lie in it.

Whilst standing in the shower and scrubbing every inch of her body until her skin hurt, she didn't hear the telephone ringing and, having returned to her bedroom, was relieved to find Ivan wasn't there. She quickly dressed before he saw her naked again, fearful it might lead to further demands, and walked into the kitchen.

He was sitting at the breakfast bar with a steaming cup of coffee, smoking another cigarette.

"When will you be home, ma-lysh?" he asked, smiling at her. "Oh, your telephone rang but nobody left a message. Perhaps it was your lover boy."

"I won't be back today, Ivan." she lied, ignoring the sarcastic reference to Hugo. "I'll be staying at my boyfriends place."

"No - you won't. You'll be coming back _here_!" he said, the finality in his voice brooking no argument. "I am working directly for the Ambassador and I will require your help."

"What? What help?" asked Belinda, taken aback by the mention of the Russian ambassador.

"What time is your appointment today?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Ten o'clock and I must go or I'll be late." she replied.

"And how long will this appointment last?"

"I don't know. It depends on the photographer." she replied. "Sometimes these shoots can last for hours, I might not be back until very late."

"So why did you say you were going to your boyfriends place?"

"I'm going to call him when I'm ready to leave and he'll come and fetch me."

"No." replied Ivan, his eyes glaring at her, frightening her with their intensity. "You will call _me_ and take a cab back _here_!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unbeknown to Ivan, the red telephone lines between the Kremlin, the Russian Ambassador's residence in London and the White House, had been burning hot all weekend.

Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev had struck up a rare alliance, particularly since their private meeting in Reykjavik two years earlier (where they'd come within an inch of disbanding their nuclear weapons) had generated a respect and tentative friendship between the two men, even though the whole agreement at the time, had fallen at the final hurdle.

When Reagan had got to hear of the missing file and learnt of the killing of Charlie Hill in Heathrow, the information fed back to him from London via Langley, he and his advisers, like Spikings, had put two and two together and suspected it was the Russians who were behind the theft.

Upon hearing of the devastating and appalling results of the failed experiments, Gorbachev pledged his co-operation, also confirming that, while he was President, his country would not become involved in trying to extrapolate the hideous suffering among _his_ sailors, or anyone else for that matter. He also expressed his regret at Charlie's murder and was intent on contacting Margaret Thatcher to tell her so personally.

Having discovered his London Ambassador had dispatched an agent to bring the file back to him, he ordered that it be returned to the CIA without fail immediately, and taken to them, in person, by a high ranking KGB officer. Finally, he called Reagan to tell him of his instructions.

So, as far as they were concerned, that was that.

But they had underestimated Ivan Davidovich.

With forty eight hours to kill, he'd read and studied the contents of the file and realized what a valuable asset it would be if his beloved Mother Russia could develop it. And he felt proud that he'd been instrumental in ensuring its safe passage from Washington to London, sniggering to himself that it had been spirited away under the noses of those shitty, bastard Americans.

When Belinda had left, he'd telephoned the Ambassador, explained where he was and why and told to stay there, while someone was sent to collect the file.

But he was secretly incensed when the Ambassador basically inferred that his mission had been for nothing and the files were being returned, deciding, there and then, they were _not _going back to the USA if he had anything to do with it.

If his people didn't want it, there were others who would - and they would pay handsomely for it.

What he wasn't told, was that Lieutenant Colonel Arranovich, a highly decorated KGB agent, would be the courier, because after he'd admitted reading the contents and waxed lyrical about how the experiment, once perfected, could be used, he'd inadvertently signed his own death warrant.

When the Ambassador had expressed his concern at Ivan's admission to Vladimir Kruglov, supreme head of the KGB, Arranovich was ordered to kill him once the file was in his hands and to make it look like suicide.

No-one wanted any loose ends, neither did they want a loose cannon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Spikings was ensconced on the telephone in his office when Dempsey and Harry arrived for work at eight o'lock that Monday morning and when he'd finished, some twenty minutes or so later, he opened his door and gestured that they, along with Chas, join him.

"It appears this file has come to the attention of both the Russian President and the President of the USA." said Spikings. "Their scrambled 'phone lines have been sizzling all weekend."

"So what does that mean, sir?" asked Harry.

"The upshot, Sergeant, is that Mr Gorbachev wants nothing to do with it and has ordered that the file be returned to the CIA forthwith." announced Spikings.

"But that ain't the end of it, Chief." said Dempsey, in his usual stance, leaning against the wall. "There's still the murderer of that customs official on the loose."

"That's a matter for Scotland Yard, Dempsey." replied Spikings.

"Actually sir, we might have stumbled across the killer ourselves." ventured Harry and explained the events over the weekend surrounding Belinda and Hugo. "We went to Belinda's apartment last night to confront her but she wasn't at home."

"Was she that girl who flirted with just about every male at your party?" asked Spikings. "She was extremely inebriated and even approached me at one point!"

Dempsey snorted and Harry smiled, even Chas finding it difficult to suppress a laugh. Spikings glared at them.

"You may find it amusing, but I can tell you my wife certainly didn't!" he said.

"No of course she didn't, sir." said Harry, having composed herself sufficiently well to speak. "I'm sorry. Belinda was very drunk."

"Anyway, Scotland Yard can deal with her." said Spikings. "She'll hopefully lead them to Charlie Hill's murderer."

"Chief, you're wrong!" said Dempsey, Spikings screwing his eyes up at him, clearly annoyed. "Charlie Hill was killed with one blow to the throat. That's the work of a trained agent an', as we know now, a Russian one. He's KGB. Don' you think that's more in our line than the plods at Scotland Yard?"

"I'll have you know they are detectives, Dempsey, not _plods_!" growled Spikings, but clearly running Dempsey's argument through his thoughts. "Okay, I take your point. And if you think you can nail him via this Belinda girl, then by all means try. Report back to me in forty-eight hours. I'll let my oppo at MI6 know were handling it at present."

"You got it!" replied Dempsey, looking at his wife. "Come on Harry, let's see if we can locate Belinda."

When they left Spikings's office, Harry grabbed Dempsey's arm.

"Isn't it going to be a bit awkward me being with you if, as, or when we find her?" she asked. "I'm not supposed to be a detective, am I!"

"Don' worry 'bout it, honey." he replied. "You're a pal - concerned about another - er pal. Okay, okay, so you're not bosom buddies but you can still be innerested, can't you?"

"I suppose so." replied Harry. "But how are we going to locate her today if she's not at home?"

"Well we won't know 'til we try. You got her number?"

"Yes wait a moment." replied Harry, opening her handbag and taking out her diary, Dempsey dialling the number she gave him, only to reach her ansaphone.

"Why didn't you leave a message?" she asked when he told her that was all he got.

"If she'd answered I'd have put the phone down, princess." replied Dempsey. "I jus' wanted ta know if she was there."

"So now what?" asked Harry.

"I guess Hugo might know where she is, huh?" said Dempsey. "I'll call him. You got his number too?"

"Yes." she said, opening her diary again. "Here it is. It's his office line."

"Wonder how many other guy's numbers you got in that little book." remarked Dempsey, grinning at her.

"None that are of any interest to me whatsoever." she smiled, wishing she could kiss him. "Yours is the only number I've got or will ever want! And I don't mean telephone number!"

Dempsey chuckled as he dialled Hugo's office, the number just ringing out.

"Maybe he ain't in work yet." said Dempsey, glancing at his watch and realising it wasn't even nine o'clock yet. "No, 'course he ain't."

"Coffee?" asked Harry as she made for the machine.

"Yeah, black, no sugar." he replied, Harry looking at him, not altogether sure whether to be annoyed or laugh.

"Dempsey, I think I know how you like your coffee by now, don't you?" she said, deciding she was annoyed with him, then, seeing him grinning widely with his head bowed, realizing he was winding her up.

"Haha very funny." she said, as he dialled Hugo's number once more, this time getting through.

"Hugo, it's James Dempsey."

"Oh hi James." replied Hugo, thinking he was calling because he'd left Winfield Hall without seeing them. "Did you and Harry not get my message last night?"

"Yeah, yeah, we got ya message, no problem." replied Dempsey. "Guess we understood why ya left in a hurry. Belinda was a bit of a handful wasn't she."

"A bit!? She was a bloody nightmare, James!" replied Hugo. "But we had a long talk and, well, it's all sorted now."

"So - you two still an item?" asked Dempsey, Harry all ears.

"Yes James, we are." said Hugo. "I love the girl. I love her a lot and, well, you know, that wasn't the real Belinda on Saturday. The real Belinda was the one on Necker. She just got too drunk too quickly and can't hold her drink. Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

"Er, yeah well, jus' wanted to know you were okay, really." replied Dempsey, thinking on his feet. "She at your place?"

"No. Well she was. Stayed last night." explained Hugo. "Then I dropped her off about eight this morning on my way in. Traffic's been horrendous. She's got a photo shoot, somewhere, don't know where exactly. But she's going to call me when it's over and I'll pick her up. I'm not sure if we'll stay at hers or mine tonight."

"No, okay. Glad everythin' worked out Hugo." said Dempsey, glancing at Harry who was rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Er, listen, you two wanna meet for a meal tonight?"

Harry glared at him, Dempsey shrugging his shoulders in reply.

"That would be great, James." replied Hugo. "I'll have to call you later to confirm though."

"Yeah, 'course, 'cos you don' know her timin' do you."

"No, exactly." said Hugo. "But I'll ring either way, how's that."

"Perfect. May see ya later. Ciao" replied Dempsey, replacing the phone.

"So, they're still together then." said Harry, frowning. "And you're going to subject me to her again."

"Come on Harry, what else can we do to get to talk to her?" replied Dempsey. "Hugo don' know where she is right now, an' he don' know when she'll be finishin' up on this photo call she's on today. I jus' thought if we get to hook up with them tonight, you might get her in the ladies an' kinda grill her 'bout this Ivan guy."

"Yes alright, I have to agree I suppose." she said, grinning at him. "At least she won't be fawning all over you with me ready to land a right hook if she does!"

"Ha! Yeah." laughed Dempsey. "We'll jus' have to wait for Hugo's call."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When the apartment buzzer sounded three times - two short rings followed by one long one - Ivan knew it was the courier come to collect the file.

But he got a shock when he opened the door to Lieutenant Colonel Arranovich and immediately stood to attention, saluting him at the same time.

"Lieutenant Colonel. It is an honour to meet you, sir."

"Alright, Ivan Davidovich, stand easy." he replied, returning the salute. "Where is the file?"

Ivan stepped to one side, waving the Colonel past him and gesturing towards the lounge, where, lying on the coffee table, was the file.

"Colonel, I have just made some tea." said Ivan. "Would you like a cup before we leave?"

"Yes please." replied Arranovich, knowing the only person leaving would be him, but it wouldn't hurt to have a last drink with Ivan, even if it was only English tea.

"Sir, why are we giving it back to the Americans?" asked Ivan. "It would be very valuable to us."

"If you hadn't done such a fine job of smuggling it in, I'd have you shot for questioning the decision of our President!" replied Arranovich. "But, on this one occasion, I will answer your question. Quite simply, we are not going to risk the lives of our brave sailors."

"But sir, may I answer?"

"Go ahead."

"We don't have to use our sailors, sir. We have many prisoners. Why not use them for the experiments?"

"The decision is made." replied Arranovich. "Now, where is that tea?"

While Ivan busied himself in the kitchen, Arranovich glanced through the file, raising his eyebrows at some of the results of the failed experiments, the tea arriving a few minutes later.

"Quite incredible, this." he said, pointing to the file, taking a mouthful of his drink. "I understand you are aware of the contents, having read the file."

"Yes sir." nodded Ivan. "I've had time to do so these last two days."

"And wh..wha..." Arranovich didn't finish his sentence, his hands flying to his throat as his eyes began to bulge and his skin began to turn grey, clutching his chest as his heart arrested, a look of shock across his face as he stared at Ivans pale, ice blue eyes, the very last image he ever saw.

The suicide poison that every agent carried, had done it's job.


	9. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9.**

Sometime around mid morning, Rupert put a call into Hugo.

"Hey, morning Rupert!" he said. "Made it home without binning that beaut of an Aston then!"

"Yes." chuckled Rupert. "Although I had Ollie's Ferrari climbing all over my bootlid most of the way, Arabella having kittens in the passenger seat!"

"Great! Shame I couldn't have made it a threesome!" replied Hugo, thinking it would have been fun pitting his Porsche 911 Turbo against the other two. "Belinda would have loved that!"

The mention of Belinda led Rupert nicely into the reason for his call.

"So, how did it go?" he asked.

"How did what go." replied Hugo.

"You were finishing it with Belinda." said Rupert. "Weren't you?"

"I was." replied Hugo. "But in the end, I didn't."

"Why not?" asked Rupert, now trying hard to keep disappointment, and a certain degree of anger, out of his voice.

"Rupert, I love her." replied Hugo. "I was all ready to dump her big time, but we talked it through in the car. She was so upset, Rupert, and mortified at how she'd behaved at the party. In the end I forgave her, so we're still very much a couple."

This revelation caused a problem for Rupert, since he was planning to suggest they meet for lunch somewhere, so he could tell Hugo all about Belinda's cheating on him with Ivan behind his back.

Now he was in a quandary.

"Rupert? You still there?" asked Hugo, the line having gone very quiet.

"Yeah, yes, sorry, I thought I heard someone at my door." he lied, but had decided to go ahead with his plan. "You doing anything this lunchtime?"

"No, nothing at the moment, why?" asked Hugo.

"Fancy meeting for a spot of lunch?" asked Rupert. "There's a new French style cafe/ restaurant opened near me. Want to give it a test drive?"

"Yes, why not." replied Hugo. "Twelve thirty okay?"

"Meet me here then and we'll stroll round together." suggested Rupert. "It's less than a five minute walk."

"Excellent." confirmed Hugo. "See you then."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

If Rupert had been wrestling with the problem of Hugo and Belinda, it paled into nothing compared with Ivan's predicament.

Not only did he have MI6 (or so he thought) after him, now that he'd murdered one of their most decorated and highly respected Soviet agents, he knew he was about to unleash the formidable and terrifying power of the KGB, and they would be relentless in hunting him down.

In addition, he not only had a dead body to dispose of, but couldn't step outside Belinda's apartment, given that his appearance was so distinctive.

He wouldn't last five minutes before being arrested, the murder of Charlie Hill still being referred to on TV as well as radio and kept news fresh while, he, the killer remained at large.

Leaving Arranovich slumped in the armchair, his eyes wide open and staring, his mouth drawn in hideous, silent pain, Ivan went into Belinda's bedroom and began searching through her dressing table.

Being a professional model, she had a wealth of make-up and it wasn't long before he found what he was looking for. Taking a bottle of black hair dye, eyebrow pencils and eyelash brushes, plus some tanning lotion, he set about changing his appearance.

After three hours he was satisfied with his work and the person emerging from the bedroom was quite the opposite to the one who went in. His face now had some colour to it, his hair jet black, eyebrows too, eyelashes covered with mascara and hands brown with tanning cream.

As efficient as ever, he left scant evidence that anything had been disturbed.

Now he needed to dispose of the body.

Peering through a slit in the window blinds, he looked along the street outside at a row of parked cars and selected the one most easily broken into.

It was a Mini Metro.

However, he was going to have to wait until it was dark before venturing outside with a dead body and hoped the car would still be there.

Although he didn't know it, his luck was holding out. The owner was on a skiing holiday.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Over lunch with Hugo, Rupert found him so ebullient and happy now that he'd resolved things with Belinda, he hadn't the heart to blow it to pieces by telling him about her secret lover.

So, he resigned to be there for him if, or when, Hugo discovered her cheating for himself.

"We might be meeting up with Harry and James for a bite to eat tonight, Rupert." Hugo was saying. "Why don't you and Arabella join us. I'm sure they won't mind."

"Why 'might be'?" asked Rupert.

"Only because I don't know when she's finishing in the studio today." replied Hugo. "Sometimes the photographer can wrap things up after a few hours, another, if he's a fussy bugger, will carry on perfecting things until well into the night."

'Hmm, I wonder if it could be Belinda he might be perfecting'. thought Rupert.

"I don't think we're doing anything tonight." he said instead. "Monday's are always quiet, so let me know later."

As it happened, Belinda's day was completed by four that afternoon, so she put a call into Hugo at work.

"Hi babe." she said. "I'm done for the day now. Can you come and get me?"

"Can you wait an hour, sweetheart?" asked Hugo. "Only I've a prospective client due at any moment, but should be clear by five. By the way, we've been invited to join Harry and James for a meal tonight. And before you say anything, I know they are probably the last people you want to see right now, but after the way you behaved at their party, I think the least you can do is apologize personally to them."

She remained quiet for a minute.

"Belinda?" said Hugo. "You still there?"

"Yes Hugo, I'm still here." she said, after giving it some thought. "Fine, you're right. I do need to say sorry, don't I."

"Yes." he replied. "Now are you okay to hang on 'til five?"

"Yes, no problem." she replied, adding seductively. "What do you have planned for me when we get home? I have some very sexy lingerie I've been modelling today and we girls always get to keep it."

"I'm sure I can think of something." replied Hugo, already excited at the thoughts and images running through his head. "Give me your address and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you babe." replied Belinda, after she'd read out where she was. "I'll be waiting."

She had no intention of returning to her apartment. She'd seen a side of Ivan that morning which had terrified her and she was at a loss as to how to get rid of him.

Ever since Hugo had told her their relationship was over, she'd realized her feelings for him were running deep and, as a consequence, her desire for the Russian had waned considerably.

That morning's virtual rape was the final nail in the coffin.

Meanwhile, now that Hugo had a time frame, he called Dempsey before he left to collect her.

"Yo!" he answered, shoving the telephone receiver behind his ear and holding it against his shoulder.

"James, its Hugo."

"Yo Hugo! How's it goin'." Harry glancing up at him from her desk opposite and listening.

"I'm about to collect Belinda." said Hugo. "So if you're still on for a meal later we'd love to meet up with you and Harry. I've mentioned it to Rupert by the way. We had lunch today. Any objections if he and Arabella came along too?"

This momentarily threw Dempsey, but he was quick to react.

"Er, yeah, great to see them too." he said, mouthing their names at Harry and nodding at her with raised eyebrows. She shrugged in response, the look on her face indicating they obviously didn't have a choice.

"So where do you suggest?" asked Hugo, then continuing before Dempsey could answer. "Tell you what. Rupert and I went to a new French style cafe cum restaurant at lunchtime. Really nice - honestly you'd think you were in the middle of Paris, it's that authentic. Great menu. Fancy that?"

"Yeah why not. Give me the address." agreed Dempsey, then writing the details down. "See ya there at eight?"

"Okay eight is fine. I'll call Rupert." replied Hugo. "Bye for now."

"So, what are we roped in to?" asked Harry, as Dempsey put down his 'phone.

"Looks like Rupert and Arabella might be comin' too." said Dempsey. "He and Hugo had lunch at some fancy new French restaurant, so the suggestion is we eat there. You got a problem with that?"

"No." replied Harry, pursing her lips. "But I'm not losing sight of the fact that the whole reason we're meeting Belinda is to find out more about this Ivan. Now with Rupert and Arabella there too, isn't it going to make that harder?"

"Nah!" said Dempsey. "If anythin' it could make it easier. The whole plan was to grill Belinda in the ladies an' with Arabella there too, means you got a two pronged attack goin'. She's in the loop too, remember. Anyway, it's not like you to be negative."

"I'm not being negative really." she replied, her lovely blue eyes steady as she looked at him. "I'm just allergic to Belinda!"

"Come on Mrs D." he said. "Time to go home. I'll mix ya a special martini when we get in, how's that sound?"

"Wonderful!" she replied, grinning, lovingly conscious at how he was able to lift her spirits so easily. "Home James!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Now that it was six o'clock and pitch dark outside, Ivan set in motion his plan to dispose of Arranovich's body. Having checked that the Mini Metro was still parked, he slipped outside, briefcase in one hand, a newspaper under his arm, a roll of sellotape in his pocket together with a rubber door stop, and a mid sized ladies hammer, all found in the apartment.

Having wedged the rubber stop under the exit door, he strolled, unseen, up to the car's rear side window and quickly spread a sheet of newspaper across it, sellotaping it in place.

Then with the hammer, he hit it with all his might, the glass silently shattering. Glancing up at the windows of the apartments overlooking the street, he was relieved to find many in darkness and all the others with either blinds or curtains drawn.

After pushing the broken glass inside the car, he reached in and unlocked the drivers door, throwing his briefcase onto the rear seat, then climbing in and unlocking the passenger door too.

Quickly returning to the apartment, he heaved the dead body across his broad shoulders in a firemans lift, and carried it out to the car, quickly opening the front passenger door and depositing Arranovich onto the seat.

In a matter of seconds, he'd hot wired the Metro and driven carefully away, not rushing, just with the minimum of fuss, and headed for the docks around Putney Bridge. Once there he drove around until he found a deserted quayside. Parking the car on the very edge, he grabbed the briefcase and climbed out.

Then, utilizing all of his mighty strength, he pushed the car over the side, standing to attention and saluting as he watched it hit the water and quickly submerge out of sight.

For the first time in several days, he returned to his apartment in London Fields, Hackney under cover of darkness and not seen by anyone, but thoughts of Belinda were now back at the forefront of his mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Hugo picked her up, she asked that they go back to his apartment, saying there was no need to drop into hers, since she had all she needed with her.

Obviously her real reason was Ivan.

No way did she want to see him again, let alone run the risk that Hugo might, and was still frantically trying to work out how to rid herself of him.

Whilst he was mixing them some drinks, she disappeared into the bedroom and changed into some of the lingerie she'd been modelling that day, then lay on the bed and called out for him.

Needless to say, they were late meeting the others at the restaurant, professing their profound apologies, but it had given Rupert time to explain why he hadn't spilled the beans to Hugo about Belinda's two timing antics.

"He loves her, it's that simple." said Rupert. "All we can do, is be there to pick him up if it all comes out into the open."

Harry decided to tee up Arabella whilst she had the chance.

"Perhaps we two can find out more about this chap Ivan, Arabella." she suggested. "At least we'd get an idea as to just how much she's into him."

"Or the other way round, literally." said Rupert, under his breath.

"Rupert! Stop being vulgar!" chastised Arabella, glaring at him.

"Well! She's no better than a highly paid call girl!" replied Rupert, scorn punctuating every word. "I'm just sorry she's got her hooks so deep into my friend."

Arabella took hold of his hand but turned to Harry. "Yes, we must try and find out as much as we can, Harry. The obvious place is the powder room, Belinda's bound to want to visit at some point, so as soon as she does, we'll join her."

"Yes, excellent." agreed Harry, smiling at Dempsey, quietly acknowledging how right he'd been in saying earlier, that Arabella would be a useful addition.

At that point Hugo and Belinda arrived, Belinda looking as sheepish as she genuinely felt.

After they had air kissed everyone in greeting and sat down, Belinda opened up with her apology.

Looking directly at Dempsey and Harry she said.

"I am sooo sorry about last Saturday. It was terribly rude of me to get so drunk and embarrass Hugo and you and, well everyone."

Taking hold of Hugo's hand she continued.

"I love this man here very much and he had every right to want to finish our relationship. For me, that would have been tragic and I can only promise I'll never make such a spectacle of myself again or give him reason to want to leave me."

All five were speechless, Hugo because she'd just professed her love for him for the first time, the other four because they couldn't quite work out whether she deserved some, albeit grudging, respect.

Dempsey broke the silence.

"Okay, I think we all accept your apology, Belinda. Ya know, we spent a week on Necker with ya, an' although there was plenny of booze flowin', ya didn't show ya self up at all. Anyone disagree?"

Harry wanted to ask there and then that, if she loved Hugo that much, why in the hell was she cheating on him, but, along with the others, kept her counsel and shook her head.

But that was a question she was going to want answering when she got the chance later - and she couldn't want it soon enough.


	10. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10.**

Once Ivan had changed into clean clothes, made himself something to eat and drank half a pot of fresh black coffee, he switched on a standard lamp in the lounge, sat down in a chair with the light shining directly over him, took out the file and re-read the contents, accompanied by a bottle of vodka.

However, the drink and the excitement of the last few hours fuelled his desire for sex, his pumping adrenalin and increased levels of testosterone, resulting in a permanent arousal and when this happened he could perform all night long.

He wanted to unleash that sexual avalanche on Belinda, but with no way of knowing whether she was still working, or indeed had finished, he knew his demands that she call him and return to her flat instead of her boyfriends place, were unlikely to materialise.

He reasoned that even if she'd called, as instructed, and, with no reply, still returned home, there was no guarantee she'd be there now, since she would have simply joined her boyfriend as originally planned.

And he was too fired up to possibly spend more hours waiting in case she turned up, the images of her naked body, big breasts and skills in bed driving him mad with lust.

No, Belinda would have to wait - for the time being.

Instead he returned the file to a safe hiding place, called a cab and ordered the driver to take him to the heart of Soho's red light district.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the Russian Embassy, the Ambassador, by five that afternoon, had realized something had gone wrong when Lieutenant Colonel Arranovich hadn't returned, so had put a call into Vladimir Kruglov at KGB headquarters in Lubyanka, Moscow.

Kruglov listened both very quietly and very intently, his experience telling him that Ivan had turned traitor, so instructed the Ambassador to leave well alone and get on with his regular duties.

Ivan Davidovich was the responsibility of the Secret Police now.

He contacted two sleeper agents in London, instructing that they visit Ivan's last known address, Belinda's, and gain entry if there was no answer. They must not leave any evidence that they were there and when done, to report back to Kruglov personally.

If they happened across Ivan Davidovich they were to kill him on sight.

Having carried out their orders, they confirmed the apartment was empty with no evidence that Ivan had even been there, so were then instructed to go to his home address and wait to see if he showed up.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the French restaurant, Harry had been finding it hard, despite Belinda's heartfelt apology, to remain civil toward her. She was a fiercely monogamous girl and abhorred dishonesty, insincerity and infidelity.

Dempsey, sitting by her side at the table, obviously knew all that, and had casually draped his arm around the back of her chair in between courses to lightly stroke her shoulder in an effort to keep her calm.

As it happened, all that did was make her tingle, her hand, in response, resting on his upper thigh, her fingers scratching him, but, apart from sending Dempsey quietly wild with desire, it did the trick in quelling her simmering anger.

Finally, after coffee and a selection of after dinner mints had been served, Belinda announced she needed the powder room, Harry, with an imperceptible nod at Arabella, leaving the table too, Arabella following.

Whilst they were touching up their lipstick and make-up, Harry turned to Belinda.

"Belinda." she said, looking her straight in the eye. "Who is Ivan?"

Belinda froze on the spot, her hand beginning to shake, her lipstick hovering over her mouth.

She returned Harry's stare, Arabella watching them both, ready to come to Harry's aid if Belinda suddenly turned nasty.

But Belinda was in no fighting mood, in fact, deep down, she was still traumatized by Ivan's sexual brutality that morning and had been fighting hard all day to keep her emotions under control.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she couldn't stop them as they began tumbling down her cheeks.

Finally she spoke.

"How d..did you know?"

"You blurted it out after you'd tried to drag my husband onto the dance floor!" replied Harry, not at all fazed by Belinda's tears. "In front of _me_! And when James rejected your advances, you said you wished your big, blonde, beautiful Ivan was there!"

"Oh G..God!" sobbed Belinda. "I.I don..don't know wha..what to say to you. I'm v..very sorry, truly I am."

"I think she means it, Harry." said Arabella, glancing at her. "This is genuine."

Harry nodded at her, reluctantly beginning to believe it too. Arabella put her arm around Belinda

"Come on now, darling." she said, hugging her. "Take a deep breath, we're close friends of Hugo's and don't want to see him hurt."

That was enough to breach the dam.

Belinda really broke down then, tears cascading from her violet eyes, her mascara streaking black lines down her face, her sobs wracking her body, her hands and legs shaking so uncontrollably, she had to clutch the wash basin in front of her and steady herself.

Harry's heart began to thaw, she knew this wasn't an act. Nobody could fake a reaction like this. She joined Arabella in hugging Belinda, both of them gradually calming her down.

After a few minutes, Belinda took a deep breath and looked at them both, her eyes frightened.

"H..He all b..but ra..raped me, ." she cried, the tears flowing once more.

Harry and Arabella stared at her and then at each other.

"What!? He raped you!" exclaimed Arabella. "How? Why? What was he doing in your apartment!?"

Belinda composed herself again, taking deep breaths.

She swallowed and began speaking, calmly, slowly.

"He broke in while I was at your reception, Harry." she started. "I didn't want him there, I swear. I'd realized I loved Hugo. I know that sounds crazy, but when he said we were finished, it was like a light went on in my head. But, I had to go back to my place to get ready for the shoot today and Ivan was there, in my bed and...and."

She stopped, tears flooding her eyes again.

Harry and Arabella could feel her heart beating fast, could almost actually hear it.

She was clearly in quite a state and they now understood exactly why.

"Okay, okay Belinda." said Harry. "We believe you. What happened then."

"H..He wouldn't t..take n..no for an answer." replied Belinda. "He's a frightening man. Russian, a bodyguard for the Ambassador. Very strong and he's an albino."

'Oh my good God!' thought Harry. 'This _is _the guy half of London's police, SI-10 and probably the CIA, are looking for. The Heathrow killer and he has that file!"

Arabella interrupted her thoughts.

"So what happened Belinda?" she was asking. "You said he raped you?"

"More or less, yes." replied Belinda, a little calmer now. "After I refused to get into bed with him, he became angry and threatening. I knew if I didn't join him, he'd probably hurt me and have his way with me anyway. He said he'd been there for two days. He was obviously frantic to have sex with me. And he was like a rabid animal!"

Anger and disgust swept across her face now, the memory of her ordeal hitting her in waves, but causing her trauma to return and making her shake again.

The girls, seeing this, comforted her.

"Come on Belinda. We know this must be hard for you, but we believe you now." said Arabella.

"Where and when did you meet this Ivan?" asked Harry, wanting as much background information as she could wring out of Belinda.

"At a function in the Russian Embassy last September." replied Belinda. "I do escort work - well I did - I've told the agency I don't want to do that anymore. I found him instantly attractive. He was exciting with an air of danger about him. I just wanted him on sight. At the time, Hugo and I were just going out on the occasional date and I only saw Ivan now and again."

"So why did you carry on seeing him when you and Hugo got more serious?" asked Arabella.

"Well it was Hugo getting more serious with me, rather than the other way round, Arabella." replied Belinda. "I know that's no excuse and it was unforgivable. I really do love Hugo very much, you must believe me. And I hate that Ivan now. But I'm terrified! He's there now! Waiting for me!"

"Where!? Your apartment!?" exclaimed Harry.

"Yes!" replied Belinda. "He demanded I go there immediately my work was done today. Obviously I didn't. I'm so scared."

Harry resisted the urge to rush out to Dempsey and tell him what had transpired, but that could easily blow her cover, not to mention alerting Hugo to what was going on.

"Belinda, listen." she said instead. "If you are truly serious and being nothing but totally honest about your feelings for Hugo, neither Arabella nor I will breathe a word to him of what you've admitted to here. I suggest you don't, on any account, go back to your apartment for at least a few days. This Ivan character will probably get bored waiting for you, anyway. Does he know where Hugo lives, by the way?"

Belinda shook her head.

"Good, then you'll be safe." continued Harry, delving into her clutch bag and drawing out a business card. "As you know James is a detective. This is where you can reach him. So if Ivan gets in touch somehow, you call him without fail. Is that understood?"

She nodded.

"I'm going to have to tell James, though." said Harry. "He overheard your reference to Ivan at the party, so he suspects your affair anyway. Is that agreed?"

"Yes Harry, and thank you both." replied Belinda. "I promise you, my feelings for Hugo are genuine. I won't ever cheat on him again. You have my word."

"Okay. Now, Belinda, Rupert knows too, so I'm going to have to explain things to him." said Arabella. "You're not his favourite person right now, I have to tell you, but I'll do my best in bringing him round."

"Should I tell Hugo the truth?" asked Belinda, suddenly.

"If I were you, I would." replied Arabella. "I'd tell him about the affair, tell him it's all over, but leave out what happened this morning. That's a secret you'll have to carry with you, I'm afraid."

"What do you think, Harry?" asked Belinda.

"Arabella's right." she replied. "Just don't tell him he was waiting for you. That's history now and needs to be consigned to the dustbin where it belongs."

Arabella kissed her on her cheek. "Better repair your face, it's looking a tad messed up!"

When they finally emerged, the bill had been settled and the boys were drinking brandy on the house.

"Where on earth have you three been!?" asked Hugo. "You've spent a lifetime in there!"

"Sorry, sorry." apologized Arabella. "I don't know where the time went. We got chatting, that's all."

"Chatting!" exclaimed Rupert, looking astonished. "More like a full blown bloody conference!"

After they had all left and gone their separate ways, Harry related fully to Dempsey exactly what had happened in the powder room.

"So this guy's at Belinda's place now?" he asked.

"Apparently so." replied Harry, knowing what was coming next.

"We'd better stake it out, honey." said Dempsey, glancing across the car at her.

"Yes, I thought you'd suggest that." she said, returning his gaze. "Just when I was looking forward to getting you home!"

"Don' tempt me!" he replied, grinning. "Listen, I guess we shouldn't try tacklin' this mother without back up. By all accounts he's a monster. I reckon we see if there's anythin' goin' on, then take it from there."

"Yes, but what do you mean 'take it from there'?"

"Well, if we see any activity in the place we'll call it in." replied Dempsey. "I dunno who's on twenty-four hour call but we should be able to get relieved later."

"Hmmm, here's hoping." she said, leveling one of her 'come and get me' looks at him. "I could do with some relief!"

"You wanna make out in the car someplace?" replied Dempsey, grinning one of his grins.

"No I do not!" replied Harry, looking aghast at him. "That's for teenagers with nowhere else to go. Anyway, Dempsey, we're working."

"Could be fun though." he said, his grin still chasms wide.

"Well if it was a warm summers night, somewhere quiet in the countryside, hood down, me in a short summer skirt, possibly even commando..." replied Harry, letting the suggestion trail away whilst leaning across and stroking his thigh. "That might be fun, yes."

"Oh hell's teeth! Roll on summer!"

Harry was still giggling when they arrived outside Belinda's and parked where they could see her windows.

"How do you know she looks out over the road, honey?" asked Dempsey, having composed himself and not without considerable effort.

"She was describing her apartment when we were on Necker." replied Harry. "She said she was always able to see when Hugo had arrived, because she'd watch him park."

"Huh. Lucky that." remarked Dempsey, looking up at the darkened frontage. "Don' look like anyone's at home."

"It is gone midnight, Dempsey." said Harry. "He could be asleep."

"Yeah, well we'll hang aroun' til two then get one of the guys to take over."

"So I can look forward to getting relief in a couple of hours?" she said, giggling.

"That's a definite!"

"You know, despite my not liking what Belinda got up to." said Harry. "I did feel very sorry for her tonight."

"Whaddya mean 'got up to'?" asked Dempsey. "Did she do more than cheat on Hugo?"

"God yes!" replied Harry. "Rupert was right. She was a high class escort. Goodness knows how many men she's bedded."

"She still an escort?"

"Why, are you going to call her up?" giggled Harry.

"Honey, y'are the perfect wife, ya know that?" he replied.

"Oh yes, husband, why?" she asked, her eyes shining, enjoying their play acting.

"'Cos you're stunningly beautiful, you're a great cook an' you're a tigress in bed!" he replied.

"Well I'm glad you said tigress and not whore, because that's the usual saying!"

"You know it then?" he replied, looking a tad embarrassed.

"Of course I know it, dopey! That saying's been around for generations!"

"Still applies to you though." he said, blushing and quickly adding. "The tigress bit. Well all of it, everything."

"Anyway, Belinda says she's given up the escort business." said Harry, still chuckling at Dempsey getting all tongue tied. "I really do think she's fallen head over heels for Hugo."

"Let's hope she means it, huh?"

By the time two o'clock rolled round, they were bored stiff. There hadn't been the slightest sign that anyone was in the flat, but called it in anyway, Terry relieving them both half an hour later.

It was two forty-five when they arrived home, four o'clock before they finally fell into sleep though, Harry making sure she was every bit a tigress!

Ivan in the meantime, had spent the night and most of the early morning in bed with two whores, leaving them both exhausted at five-thirty. Ravenously hungry by now, he stopped at an all night cafe and ate a full English breakfast washed down with several cups of black coffee, returning to his apartment at six-thirty, dawn beginning to turn the night into morning.

Stepping out of his cab, he glanced up at his window.

Something wasn't the same and for a second or two he couldn't fathom why.

Then it struck him.

He'd left his standard lamp on so there should have been light in the window. So, either the bulb had blown or he'd got unwelcomed company.

And he was pretty certain it was the latter.


	11. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11.**

Ivan realised he had to get out of sight quickly, as the cab's rattling diesel engine, sounding much louder in the quiet of the early morning, could well have alerted whoever it was in his apartment.

He had to hope he hadn't already been spotted, so slinked away, needing time to gather his thoughts and formulate a plan. It wasn't a surprise to him that the KGB were on to him so quickly, but he did wonder how many assassins they'd sent.

Was it one, or two? It wouldn't be three, he knew that.

He assumed two.

They would be armed and waiting for the sound of his key in the lock. He'd be dead within seconds. But he had to get into his apartment. All his money, clothes, weapons and fake identities and passports that he'd spirited away over the years, plus the all important, valuable file, were hidden in there and he couldn't move forward without them.

Then a very simple idea hit him.

Hailing another cab he instructed the driver to take him to a nearby hotel, which he knew accepted guests for anything from an hour to a full day. It was used by several prostitutes and husbands looking for somewhere to enjoy their mistresses, the owner not caring since it brought in regular trade. Furthermore, no awkward questions were asked either.

He booked it for a full twenty-four hours.

As soon as he was given his key and had entered the room, he picked up the telephone and dialled for an outside line.

Then he re-dialled his apartment number, allowing one ring before replacing the receiver. Picking it up again, he dialled the number once more, letting it ring twice before cutting the call. He rang it for a third time, only allowing one ring again.

This was the secret sequence that all agents used to contact each other.

Dialling for the fourth time, he let it ring out and when it was answered, he spoke in Russian, telling the listener that he was Major Alexei Kaminski, that Ivan Davidovich was seen entering Belinda's apartment block and to get over there immediately before he disappeared again.

Risking that they'd fallen for the ruse, he quickly left the hotel and flagged down another cab, arriving outside his apartment block a few minutes later. Wasting little time, he took the stairs to his third floor flat and listened outside his door for any movement inside.

He feared that if there had been two agents waiting for him, only one may have left to check out Belinda's place, so without making a sound he quietly turned the key in the lock and silently entered, poised on red alert for any sudden appearance.

The flat was empty. His plan had worked.

Ivan quickly packed a suitcase, threw his money, false passports and identities, a revolver, ammunition and the file into the briefcase and quickly left, returning to the hotel.

Once in the safety of his room, he took out of his pocket a small, red, leather bound notebook inside of which were the names and contact details of several operatives attached to their country's secret services.

He noted three.

Cheng Deshi, MSS (Ministry of State Security - China). Mahmod Hussein Al-Jamil, of the Mukhabarat, Iraq and Omid Vahid of SAVAMA, Iran's Secret Police.

Any one of those three, he knew, would put him in touch with those in their organisations capable of authorizing payment to him of a fortune for details of the 'Philadelphia Experiment', enough money for him to disappear without trace and live a life of untold luxury.

Ten million US dollars was the price they'd have to pay and he got to work, Cheng Deshi being the first he contacted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Dempsey and Harry arrived at SI-10, they'd hardly had time to sit down before Spikings popped his head out of his office door and asked them to come in.

"I understand you've had that girl, Belinda's, apartment staked out all night." he said.

"Yeah Chief." replied Dempsey. "We were out to dinner with her last night and Harry discovered that the guy she's been havin' an affair with is the very same Russian we're after."

Harry took over then and related the conversation she and Arabella had with Belinda in the ladies powder room, finally explaining that Ivan had broken into her flat and could possibly still be there, hence the surveillance.

"Terry has just reported seeing two characters entering that apartment block." said Spikings. "After about ten minutes they came out again, this time in a tearing hurry. I can tell you they were Russian agents."

"How do you know, sir?" asked Harry, glancing up at Dempsey who was in his usual place leaning against the wall.

"Because Sergeant, for once MI6, the CIA and the KGB are working together." replied Spikings. "Since Gorbachev promised Reagan he'd have the file returned to the CIA, a high ranking KGB officer was sent to the girl's flat to collect it."

"How did they know it would be there?" asked Harry.

"Because the agent who couriered it back from Washington, this Ivan Davidovich, is attached to the Russian Embassy here in London." replied Spikings "And after the Heathrow murder, he told the Ambassador where he was. It was the Ambassador who instructed him to go and get it in the first place. Just how or why _he_ was involved no-one knows, but the suspicion is he got wind of the file's existence and was trying to earn some valuable brownie points!"

"So where's the file now, Chief?" asked Dempsey.

"The presumption is that Davidovich still has it." said Spikings.

"Yeah? How come?" asked Dempsey.

"Because Dempsey, the officer sent to the flat to collect the file has not returned with it." replied Spikings. "To all intents and purposes he's disappeared, the assumption being that Davidovich has killed him."

"Are you telling us that there's a dead body in Belinda's flat, sir!?" asked Harry.

"No-one knows as yet." replied Spikings. "We need to gain access and find out. I told MI6 you have a connection with the owner, so we should be able to get in there with a key, rather than battering down the door!"

"So just to get this straight, boss, the file is still missin' an' we reckon still in the hands of this Ivan guy." said Dempsey.

"Yes Lieutenant." replied Spikings. "So you two were right to have the flat watched. And as I've said, Terry hasn't seen anyone leave, except those two men, who I suspect are KGB agents, sent to retrieve the file and deal with Davidovich. But judging by the fact they came out again quite quickly, could mean they now have the file and have killed him."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Harry. "So there could be _two_ dead bodied in there! We had better get hold of Belinda and fast!"

"But Chief, if we're all workin' together on this." said Dempsey. "How come we don' know if Davidovich ain't already dead and along with the other Ruskie officer, is lying in that flat?"

"Nothing's filtered through yet, Dempsey." replied Spikings. "So I think we should find out for ourselves, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'll get right on it." he said, looking at Harry. "Give me Hugo's number again, Harry. I'll try him first. Gotta hope Belinda ain't workin' today, an' is in his flat."

Harry followed him out to their desks, Dempsey dialling Hugo as he sat down.

"Dempsey." she said, stopping him with her finger on the plunger.

"Yeah?" he replied, looking questioningly at her. "What?"

"Let _me _call Hugo." she replied. "It'll sound better coming from me asking after Belinda. I'll make up some story."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Oh I don't know." replied Harry, thinking hard. "Ah, yes I do. I'll just say that there are no hard feelings about how Belinda behaved at our reception and glad they're still together, something like that. Look leave it to me."

"Ok honey." replied Dempsey and waited while she dialled Hugo's office number.

"Hugo?" she said, when he answered. "It's Harry."

"Hi Harry, you well?" he asked. "Great night last night wasn't it."

"Yes, lovely restaurant." replied Harry. "I just wanted to call you and say James and I don't harbour any ill feeling towards Belinda. I know she was out of line at our reception but, hey, we can all have too much to drink, can't we. We're really happy you two are still together."

"Well thanks, Harry." replied Hugo, clearly delighted. "That means a lot."

"Is she working today?" asked Harry.

"Actually no." replied Hugo, Harry putting her thumb up at Dempsey. "She says she was going to be busy tidying my place up! I can get a bit untidy if the truth be told."

"Typical man!" chuckled Harry. "Your'e all alike! James is just the same."

"What would we do without you ladies." stated Hugo. "Anyway, I've got to cut you short. A client is about to walk in. Thanks again, Harry, much appreciated. Let's get together again soon."

"Absolutely. We'll look forward to it. Bye."

"Ok, good work, honey." said Dempsey. "I'll call Belinda now. You got Hugo's home number in that little book of yours?"

"Of course." replied Harry, digging it out of her handbag and giggling at him. "Bet you'd love to know who's in here, wouldn't you."

"No, not innerested!" he said, his face betraying the exact opposite as he tried to concentrate on dialling. Harry just sat there, elbows on her desk, upturned palms supporting her chin and watched him, loving him for trying to be nonchalant and supposedly disinterested in the contents of her diary.

"Hey Belinda?" he said on hearing her voice. "It's James Dempsey."

"Oh hi James." she replied, unsure as to why he was calling. "Do you want Hugo only he's..."

"No I don'. Er, listen, Harry told me 'bout your, er, problems with this Ivan guy." he said. "Now, I don' wanna alarm ya, but we think he may be in your place an' we need to go check that out. If I drop round to ya now, can you give me ya door key an' the combination ta get through the entrance doors?"

"Well yes, but why do you need to in the first place?" asked Belinda. "Has he done something wrong? I mean don't get me wrong, I'd like to know whether he's there myself."

"I can't say too much, Belinda." said Dempsey, choosing his words carefully. "But yeah, he's someone we need to talk to. That's all I can tell ya right now. It ain't nothin' you've done, so you ain't in the frame. Okay?"

"Okay. How long will you be?" she asked.

"Twenny minutes tops." replied Dempsey. "An' thanks."

Whilst Harry stayed out of sight in the car, Dempsey, parking around the corner from Hugo's apartment, collected the key from Belinda, then drove quickly over to her flat, the rest of the SI-10 team already placed around the building covering all possible exits.

Knowing that Ivan, as a trained spy, would be aware they were there, Dempsey, Harry, Spikings and Chas, weapons drawn, entered as silently as possible.

With revolvers gripped with both hands and held out in front of them on straight arms, they slowly and methodically crept along the short hallway, sweeping their weapons in an arc, eventually emerging into the lounge. Finding it tidy and in order, they checked every other room, only to find those in the same condition.

"Goddam it! He ain't here!" growled Dempsey. "Looks like he's gone to ground."

"Yes most definitely." agreed Spikings. "No sign of the missing KGB officer either. And there's only one reason he'd go up against his own organisation, leave alone ours and the CIA."

"He's gonna try an' sell that file to the highest bidder, ain't he?" said Dempsey. "An' if he manages it, he'll net millions!"

"Enough to enable him to vanish." said Chas. "That kind of money buys you a whole new look, identity, the lot."

"Do you think it's safe for Belinda to come home now?" asked Harry.

"I guess she could, but we'd have to provide round the clock cover, just in case that Soviet freak shows up again." said Dempsey. "Whaddya think, Chief?"

"Yes, I'd say she can and we'll have the place watched twenty four seven." confirmed Spikings. "I'd think it's unlikely he'll be back, though. He'll know it'll be under surveillance."

"I somehow don't think he's finished with Belinda yet, sir." remarked Harry.

"You don't? Why not?" asked Spikings, frowning at her.

"From what I can gather, he couldn't get enough of her, if you know what I mean." said Harry. "And he may try and see her again."

"The longer she stays at Hugo's then the better." said Dempsey. "I guess I'd better have another word, huh?"

They retraced their steps back to Hugo's, Harry once again staying in the car whilst Dempsey saw Belinda.

"Hi Belinda." he said, when she opened the door. "Mind if I come in. Jus' wanna quick word."

"Yes of course." she replied, showing him through to the lounge. "Can I get you a drink, coffee perhaps?"

"Thanks but no thanks." he smiled. "We didn't find anyone in your place this mornin' an' we're gonna have the place watched day an' night in case this Ivan guy shows his face."

"Do you think he might then?"

"Well, from what I can gather he has the hots for ya."

"Yes, you could say that!" agreed Belinda, smiling.

"You'll be better off stayin' here as long as you can though." said Dempsey. "I can tell ya that he's wanted for murder."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Belinda, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with fright. "Who's he killed?"

"Ya don' need to know that." replied Dempsey. "In fact the less ya know the better. But you may need to include Hugo in this, 'cos while I'm sure he loves ya bein' here, he is gonna wonder why you're avoidin' goin' home, ain't he?"

"I'm planning on telling him all about my affair with Ivan this evening." said Belinda.

"How's he gonna take it, any idea?"

"I really don't know, but I just hope he respects my honesty in coming clean now." she replied. "I love him very much and so I'm hoping that's what he'll realise."

"Okay, well best of luck." said Dempsey. "But if it all goes belly up, call me at home. I think the last place you should spend any time is in ya own place right now. So if Hugo throws a huff, come an' stay with us, okay?"

"Thank you James, Harry won't mind?"

"Nah, Harry'll be cool, doncha worry 'bout that." replied Dempsey, thinking she was likely to hit the roof!.

When he returned to the car, Harry knew immediately he had something to hide, just by the look on his face.

"What have you said to her?" she asked, turning to face him after he'd climbed into the driving seat.

"Er, I told her this Ivan guy was wanted for murder." he replied, starting the car. "An' therefore she should stay with Hugo for as long as she can."

"How did she take the first bit!?" asked Harry.

"Pretty shocked!" replied Dempsey, slipping the car into 'Drive' and accelerating away.

"Yes, I bet she was." said Harry, still turned toward him, studying his face. "And what else?"

"Whaddya mean?" he asked, staring straight ahead, knowing she was on to him and knowing there was nowhere to hide.

"There's more." she said. "Come on, out with it. What else have you said?"

"Honey I was gonna tell ya later." said Dempsey, but pulled over and parked, knowing he wasn't going to be able to drive and duck at the same time.

"Tell me what!" she said, staring at him.

"She said she was plannin' on tellin' Hugo all 'bout her affair with the Ruskie." started Dempsey, looking at Harry and noting her blue eyes resembled ice. "An' in the heat of the moment, I said if he took it the wrong way she shouldn't go home but - well - to come an' stay with us."

Harry glared at him, then turned her body away and stared out of the windscreen, taking some deep breaths before she answered.

"So, you have promised a person for whom I have a smidgen more respect than a cockroach, can come and live with us and no doubt will enjoy gawping at her when she starts prancing about, bouncing those, those - _bazookas_ of hers and wiggling her tush in some sexy lingerie!"

"Honey, I thought you said you felt sorry for her." said Dempsey. "An' you said not more than an hour ago, that she shouldn't go to her place!"

"Yes! I did! I do!" she replied. "But that doesn't mean I think of her as my best, _bosom_ bloody buddy whose knickers I won't mind sloshing about in my washing, bloody, machine! For God's sake, what were you thinking! Why us!? Hasn't she got parents!?"

"I dunno. Anyways, it ain't certain by a long stretch, Harry." offered Dempsey. "I mean Hugo's nuts 'bout her an' she loves him ta bits so I guess it'll all work out okay."

"You'd better hope it does!" said Harry, still staring straight ahead.

"Honey, I..."

"Don't '_honey_' me, Dempsey!" she interrupted. "We've got Glo due to stay this weekend. I've just bought tickets for us to go to see 'Phantom' so what do we do if single, girl about town Belinda's back on the loose!?

"Harry! Now you listen!" said Dempsey, staring at her. "Hey! Look at me!"

She slowly turned her head and levelled her eyes at him, still glittering like blue ice.

"That girl's been raped by a violent, brutal killer!" said Dempsey. "An' he's out there someplace, maybe plannin' on doin' it again! An' this time he might kill her too! Have ya thought 'bout that!?"

She remained staring at him but there was the faintest thaw in her eyes.

"I get what you mean 'bout havin' her round the place." he went on. "But you gotta snap out of this automatic assumption that I wanna be oglin' her pretty butt or those bouncin' fun bags of hers, 'cos I ain't innerested! I don' want our privacy messed up any more than you do! I jus' think that we have a duty to keep her out of the clutches of that monster, an' if it comes down to it, we'll get her a proper safe house!"

Her eyes were softening now, not lost on Dempsey.

"Listen honey, you know there ain't no other girl for me but you." he said. "An' I know this ain't jus' 'bout ya not likin' that kid much. It's that old panic risin' again, ain't it. You think my love for you will be threatened by havin' some good lookin' broad roamin' 'bout half naked. I want _you_ ta be roamin' around without hardly nothin' on an' have the freedom ta make the most of it!"

She knew he was right. Part of her was scared about the man she loved so deeply, finding another woman sexually attractive.

Those old buried demons were surfacing again.

But the other part of her really didn't have a fat lot of respect for Belinda and it was going to take time before she could feel any sort of real friendship towards her.

She held out her hand though, Dempsey taking it in his and pulling it to his lips.

"Honey there ain't no-one else for me, never will be, you really gotta trust me on that." he said, his eyes searching hers.

She leant across and took his face in her hands, then gently, softly, kissed his lips.

"I know, darling, I know." she whispered. "And you're right. Of course we've got to keep her safe if we have to."

"It ain't gonna come to that anyway." he said. "Hugo's too besotted with her. You know that really. You jus' let the poison back in, huh?"

"I did. I'm sorry." she said, drawing him to her once again. "Come on, darling, we've got work to do."

In the end Dempsey was right.

Hugo got upset when Belinda confessed she'd been cheating on him earlier in their relationship, but convinced him she loved him now with all her heart. She also told him Ivan was dangerous and now wanted for murder, so he insisted she never went to her apartment without him and that if she needed a new warddrobe he'd buy one for her.

Effectively she was moving in with him and he couldn't be happier.

Ivan Davidovich still wanted her, however, and when his business had been finalized, he planned to find her once more and sample her skills in bed that he so desperately missed.


	12. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12.**

As soon as Ivan had outlined the 'Philadelphia Experiment' to Cheng Deshi, the Chinaman knew instantly he wanted to get his hands on the file, but warned Ivan not to enter into a bidding war with other interested parties.

He said he'd be on the next flight out of Beijing to Heathrow, instructing Ivan to meet him in his room at the Heathrow 'Holiday Inn' once he had confirmed the timing. He wanted to study the contents of the file and have first refusal, agreeing, there and then, that if it stacked up, he'd effect payment of Ivan's asking price of ten million US dollars.

Ivan was ecstatic.

It was ten in the morning and Beijing was seven hours ahead of the UK. The flight would take nearly eleven hours, so it would be the next day at the earliest, before his meeting with Cheng Deshi was likely to take place. He had plenty of time to kill and what better way to spend it than with a couple of prostitutes.

He called down to reception and requested that the hotel owner pay him a visit in his room. Upon arrival, he booked and paid for use of the room for a further forty-eight hours, slipping one hundred pounds in cash into the owners pocket and instructing him to arrange for two call girls to visit and stay the rest of the day with him.

Half an hour later, he took a call from Deshi, who confirmed he was booked on the seven pm flight, local time, to London and would be landing at around six the next morning, GMT. Once he had checked into the hotel he'd call Ivan and arrange to meet.

Not long after that, there came a knock at his door.

Two prostitutes entered and, once paid, went about their business.

And he was going to make sure they earned every penny.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On their way back to SI-10, Harry had answered a radio call from Chas instructing them to detour to an area near Putney Bridge where a Mini Metro had been exposed lying on the river bed following low tide, the Thames having dropped by twenty feet to just over two.

The officers at the scene had reported that a body appeared to be in the car and, when Spikings had got to hear of it, he wanted clarification.

When they arrived, the area had been cordoned off, uniformed police everywhere, ensuring none of the public got anywhere close as the car was being craned out, water cascading out of the door edges and broken side window.

Flashing their badges, they'd been instantly waved through and had parked close to where the car was eventually landed. Having confirmed that a body was indeed in the Metro, they instructed it be sent immediately for a post mortem examination.

Now, having returned to SI-10, Harry and Dempsey were in Spikings' office with him and Chas, awaiting the results of the autopsy.

"What put you on to this, sir?" Harry asked. "I mean, it isn't the first time a car has been found in the Thames."

"A call came in to the local constabulary from the female owner of the Metro, reporting it stolen." replied Spikings. "And she lives in the same apartment block as your friend Belinda, so we were automatically notified."

"Taken her long enough, ain't it?" remarked Dempsey.

"She's just returned from a holiday, Lieutenant." said Spikings, with a look of 'so there, clever dick!' written across his face.

"So we're assumin' the body's that of the KGB officer sent to get the file, huh?" replied Dempsey, unfazed by Spikings' apparent contempt.

"Yes Dempsey, we are." confirmed Spikings. "And when it's verified we'll inform the Russians. They can do what they will with the body. Probably give him some sort of official send-off."

"It doesn't get us any closer to finding Ivan Davidovich though, does it." said Harry. "He's got us, the KGB and CIA looking for him and none of us seem to have a clue where he might be!"

"Hardly surprising, Harry." ventured Chas. "This blokes a trained spy by all accounts. Evading capture's second nature to him."

"But he does have a weak spot." said Dempsey.

Harry was on to him in a flash. Dempsey knew it too.

"Oh no, don't go suggesting what I think you're going to!" warned Harry, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Harry, you said it yourself." he replied, looking her directly in the eye. "He's got the hots for Belinda big time, an' he ain't had his fill yet."

"I assume you're suggesting we use this Belinda as a honey trap." said Spikings, looking from one to the other.

"Yes sir, _Dempsey_ is!" replied Harry, looking away.

"Whaddya care, Harry?" he asked. "You don' even like her. Not much bedder than a cockroach, I think was how you put it."

"It has nothing to do with how I feel about her!" replied Harry, indignantly. "But deliberately putting her in danger of her life is something I have an issue with."

"Okay you two, put away your swords." said Spikings. "She doesn't have to be in any real danger, Sergeant."

"No, you're right, Chief." said Dempsey. "Listen, Harry. Number one. The guys stake out Belinda's apartment. Two. We stay outta sight inside. Three. Belinda gets him to come over. Four. We get him or kill him, whichever way it goes. No-one gets hurt, 'cept him."

"Sounds like a plan to me." said Chas, adding. "But will Belinda go for it."

"And what about Hugo?" asked Harry, still not totally on board. "He'll never agree."

"Hugo don' need to know." replied Dempsey.

"And what if something goes wrong?" asked Harry. "What then? How do we tell Hugo we deliberately put the love of his life in mortal danger!?"

"I understand your concern, Harry, we all do." said Spikings, using her first name for once. "But, so long as we are on the ball and overpower him the second he appears in that flat, Belinda will not be harmed. Remember, this is a simple ruse to get him to come out of hiding. If you've got a better idea, then now's the time to voice it."

"I have as a matter of fact." replied Harry. "Belinda doesn't have to be in the flat at all. It's only got to appear to him that she is."

"So how will that work, Harry?" asked Chas, believing she had come up with a workable idea, but needing details.

"Telephone calls can be re-directed, can't they." stated Harry, continuing when everyone nodded at her. "Right, so we arrange that if someone calls her flat, the call goes to her in Hugo's apartment."

"Okay. With you so far." said Dempsey, smiling at her. "But we'd have to be pretty darned speedy to get into the flat before he turns up. He could be callin' from a 'phone box round the corner."

"You and I move in." replied Harry. "That way we're already there and waiting."

Dempsey grinned and walked over to her, raising his palm in a high five, Harry slapping it hard with hers.

"That's a goddammed smart idea, honey!" he said, looking over at Spikings. "Whaddya think, Chief?"

"Yes, I don't see any reason why that wouldn't work." agreed Spikings, raising a finger in caution. "But, just as long as the transfer from one 'phone to the other is seamless. We'd better check with BT that there's no delay, even for a split second."

"I'll do that." said Chas, making for the door. "No time like the present."

"An' I'd better speak to Belinda again." said Dempsey, leaving the office too, Harry right behind him.

"I think you should tell Hugo." she said, when they'd sat down opposite each other at their desks. "He needs to know. And he'll also know where Belinda is right now. Otherwise, it'll be tonight before you get the chance to speak to her and even then Hugo will have to know why she must answer the 'phone from now on and not him."

"Okay. But let's jus' wait 'til Chas has checked out BT." replied Dempsey. "'Cos your idea'll get blown outta the water if there's the slightest delay in the transfer."

Chas reported back a few minutes later, so they returned to Spikings' office.

"Normally, there would be a delay. And not only that, there'd also be a voice telling the caller they were being transferred." he said. "But, they've agreed to override that and have an operator monitoring Belinda's number round the clock, automatically re-routing any call before it even connects, so the caller gets straight through to her at Hugo's place."

"Jolly good." said Spikings, as matter of fact as ever and looking at Dempsey and Harry. "Go to it then, you two. I'll have a couple of the lads staking the place out on a rotational basis, so we'll know when this character shows up. They'll keep in touch with you via their walkie talkies."

"Are you going to brief the Americans and Russians, sir?" asked Harry.

"Oh I don't think so." replied Spikings, grinning, a twinkle in his eye. "We might show those clowns how it should be done, don't you think?"

"Jeezus, we'd better pull this off!" said Dempsey, quietly, as they exited Spikings' office.

"Hmmm." agreed Harry, taking his hand in hers. "We'll never hear the end of it otherwise! Come on, we'd better get over to Hugo's office and hope he's in."

When they swung onto the gravelled in/out drive fronting a handsome Victorian mansion in the heart of Holland Park, the headquarters of the property empire and building development company that Hugo ran with his father, they noted his Porsche parked in his personally marked bay.

"You stay here, honey." said Dempsey, leaning across and kissing her. "I won't be long."

He crunched across the driveway and into the reception, strolling up to the desk, behind which was an attractive young blonde.

"Yes sir, can I help you?" she asked, smiling and looking him casually up and down, making no secret that she found him attractive.

"Yeah, is Hugo around?" asked Dempsey, smiling back at her.

"Yes, I believe so." she replied, her cool green eyes still appraising him. "Do you have an appointment? Who can I say is calling?"

"James Dempsey." he answered. "An' no, this is a social call."

"Oh yes, I think I've heard him mention you." she lied, as she tapped away on her switchboard, then. "Hugo? James Dempsey is in reception. He'd like to see you."

Then looking up at Dempsey she said. "Okay, I'll show him up."

"No need." he replied, quickly. "Jus' tell me how to find him."

"I insist." she said, smiling and sliding out from under the desk, allowing her skirt to ride up her legs and pausing, deliberately parting them. "This way, Mr Dempsey."

Lightly touching his arm, she walked him over to the lift and pressed the 'up' button.

"How long have you known Hugo?" she asked, eager to make conversation as the lift doors hissed open.

"Oh, a while." replied Dempsey, stepping in and thanking God Harry wasn't with him. She'd waste no time in putting this flirt in her place! Nevertheless, he had his own put down ready. "He came to Necker with us when I married my wife last month."

"Oh yes!" she replied, looking a little crestfallen that this hunk was already spoken for. "I remember Hugo telling me about it. What a wonderful place to get married."

"Yeah. No place on earth like it." replied Dempsey, smiling as he alighted the lift as soon as the doors opened and turning to her. "Where's Hugo's office?"

"Along there." she said pointing out the direction. "Third door on your left."

"Thanks. I can take it from here. Ciao." he said and walked off along the corridor.

"Ciao, gorgeous." she sighed quietly as she watched him disappear.

"James!" greeted Hugo, smiling warmly at him and shaking his hand. "Come in. Can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks Hugo." replied Dempsey and proceeded to explain the reason for his visit.

"I see." said Hugo when he'd finished. "I think the sooner this joker's behind bars, the safer we'll all feel. Especially Belinda."

"Yeah, any idea where she is right now?" asked Dempsey.

"Yes, spending my money." chuckled Hugo. "I've given her one of my credit cards. She's living with me now, so she needed some new clothes. Look, she's due to call me soon. We're meeting for a spot of lunch. Why not join us?"

"Er, thanks Hugo, but I'm on duty." replied Dempsey. "I jus' need access to her place again an' to explain what we're doin'."

"Leave the explanations to me, James. I can handle that." said Hugo, opening a drawer in his desk. "As it happens, I've got the spare keys to her apartment here. How does she let you know when this Ivan chap has called?"

"She don'." replied Dempsey. "We got a team watchin' the entrance. Soon as he shows up, we'll know in plenny of time. Jus' make sure you don' answer your 'phone from here on in."

"Okay James." confirmed Hugo. "And how's Harry?"

"Yeah she's great thanks." replied Dempsey.

"We'll have to have a damn good knees up in Stringfellows when all this is over." said Hugo, smiling.

"Yeah that'd be good." agreed Dempsey, smiling back and standing up to leave. "Okay, must go. Say hi to Belinda an' tell her not to worry. We'll nail this dumbass!"

"I'm sure you will." replied Hugo, shaking his hand in farewell. "And thanks James."

Back in the car, Dempsey relayed his conversation with Hugo to Harry.

"Did he say anything about Belinda's affair?" she asked.

"Nope. Not a word." replied Dempsey. "I guess it's all water under the bridge. She's out in town right now with his credit card, buyin' herself a new warddrobe!"

"Good grief! He has forgiven her then! Anyway, we'd better get some change of clothes and things, hadn't we." she said. "Who knows how long we'll be at Belinda's. Oh hell! What about Glo? She's due to stay this weekend."

"It's only Tuesday, honey." replied Dempsey. "We can wait a cuppla days, see what happens, huh?"

"Okay. Let's hope Ivan's desire for Belinda kicks in again soon in that case." she said.

"Dunno 'bout him. My desire for you's spillin' over!" grinned Dempsey.

"Well we don't have to get to Belinda's immediately, do we?" she replied, her eyes betraying her openly apparent intentions. "And we do have to go home now, don't we?"

"I guess there's time for me to ravish you!" grinned Dempsey.

"Ooh darling, don't spare the horses!" she giggled.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At midday, Ivan was interrupted by his bedside telephone ringing.

"Yes?" he said, pushing the girls off him.

"It's Cheng." said Deshi. "We're fogbound. No flights tonight. Mine's been cancelled. Do nothing with that file until I can get a flight. You understand?"

"Yes." replied Ivan. "I'll wait."

He replaced the receiver then lay back, snapping his fingers at the two girls to carry on when they'd left off.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Not long after Harry and Dempsey had moved in to Belinda's apartment there came a knock at the door.

"Belinda? It's Sally." she said. "Come on, I've got a bottle of white wine and I want to hear all the gossip. Belinda? Open up."

Assuming she was in the shower and couldn't hear her, Sally went back to the apartment, intent on calling back in half an hour.

"Shoot!" exclaimed Dempsey. "Who in the hell's that!?"

"Must be a neighbour." replied Harry. "You'd better get hold of Hugo and tell him Belinda's friend Sally wants to meet her. And Sally needs a good reason to leave well alone!"

Dempsey picked up the telephone, dialled Hugo's office number and switched it to speakerfone regretting it immediately when the receptionist answered.

"Oh hello, Mr Dempsey." she cooed. "How can I help?"

"Is Hugo there?" asked Dempsey, noting Harry's interested expression when hearing the flirty voice.

"No, I'm afraid he isn't." replied the receptionist. "He's not back from lunch. I'm not even sure when he'll be back, actually. Can I give him a message?"

"Er, no." replied Dempsey. "I'll call back in half an hour. Thanks."

"You're welcome." she gushed. "Bye, Mr Dempsey."

"Bye Mr Dempsey" echoed Harry. "Who is she!?"

"Some blonde bimbo Hugo's got on reception." replied Dempsey.

"Dear me." replied Harry. "Talk about surrounding yourself with brain dead females!"

"Hey honey." said Dempsey, deflecting her. "What're we gonna do 'bout that Sally. She'll be back on the door again soon."

"Oh God, she's probably another one!" murmured Harry. "Erm, I don't know. Ask her in? Explain what's going on?"

"Yeah okay." agreed Dempsey. "But you'd better stay outta sight. We don' want none of your friends knowin' you're involved in this, do we."

Having tried Hugo again and even his home number, but to no avail, when Sally knocked on the door again, Dempsey answered it, Harry disappearing into the bedroom.

"Oh! Who are you?" asked Sally, looking him up and down.

"Come in, Sally." said Dempsey, stepping to one side and waving her in. "Take a seat."

"Are you Belinda's new boyfriend?" asked Sally. "I must say she's got good taste."

"Er no, she's still with Hugo." replied Dempsey.

"Oh, so what are you doing in her apartment?" asked Sally, wanting to believe she'd struck lucky.

"I'm a detective, Sally." said Dempsey.

"But you're American." she replied, not sure whether to believe him.

"Yeah, I'm from New York, but I'm workin' for the British police now." he explained.

"Oh, I see. So why are you in here, then?" she asked, then looking alarmed. "Has something terrible happened to Belinda?"

Dempsey told her the minimum, but left her under no illusions that she mustn't tell anyone that he was there.

"Okay." she agreed, then lifting the bottle of wine up said. "Shall we open this. We could make an afternoon of it if you'd like to."

"I'm a happily married man, Sally." he replied, knowing exactly what she was implying. "There's gotta be tons of guys out there who'd wanna drink that with ya. Go find one, huh?"

"Yes, alright, sorry." she replied, looking embarrassed and standing up to leave. "And thank you. I won't say anything, promise."

When she'd gone, Harry came back into the lounge shaking her head.

"Where _do _all these brazen hussies come from!?" she exclaimed. "If it isn't some receptionist giving you the come on, it's a virtual stranger!"

"An' there's little ole' me, with eyes for no-one but you, princess." chuckled Dempsey, loving it when she let her guard down and got a little jealous.

"You say all the right things." she said, throwing her arms round his neck and kissing him. "If we were at home, I'd let you ravish me again."

"You mean we're on rations while we're here?" he said, looking forlorn.

"Yes, of course. I do draw the line somewhere, darling." said Harry, then kissing the tip of his nose. "Anyway, think of the fun we'll have when we do get to go home!"


	13. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13.**

Not long after Spikings had arrived in his office the next morning, the pathologist was on the telephone informing him of his findings, having carried out the autopsy on Colonel Arranovich.

"He was administered a fatal dose of potassium cyanide, Chief Superindent." he reported. "A rounded teaspoon would be about fifty times the amount needed to kill him. Upon swallowing such a solution, even mixed in a cup of tea, he would have collapsed almost immediately, losing consciousness within ten to twenty seconds. Death would have followed in a matter of minutes. My written report will be with you later."

"Thank you doctor." replied Spikings. "See that a copy in Russian is sent to the Ambassador in the Russian Embassy, will you please."

"Of course." replied the doctor. "Goodbye."

"CHAS!" yelled Spikings, as he replaced his receiver. Chas's head appeared round his door.

"Yes Guv?" he replied.

"All quiet on the Western Front?" asked Spikings.

"Yes sir." replied Chas. "Not a dicky bird."

"That was the pathologist." said Spikings. "The Colonel was poisoned with potassium cyanide, sneaked into a cup of tea by our friend Ivan Davidovich it seems."

"Hmm, standard issue in capsules." said Chas. "I wonder how many more he's got hidden away."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Over at Belinda's, Harry and Dempsey had spent a restless night.

It had been the first time in their relationship when they'd had to quell their passion whilst lying next to each other in bed, Dempsey inevitably trying it on, only to receive a slap from Harry every time.

"James, it's hard enough this, without you making it worse." she had complained, as frustrated as he was. "I'll have to go and sleep in the spare room at this rate."

"Aw, don't do that, angel." he'd replied, spooning into her.

"Well, just control yourself! I'm having to!" she'd replied, before being unable to prevent herself from giggling. "And turn over! It's plainly obvious what state you're in!"

Reluctantly he'd done as he was told and they'd both eventually fallen asleep, but still managed to find themselves entwined in each when they woke up.

Before her resolve deserted her, Harry slipped out of bed, put on her dressing gown and went through to the kitchen to make some breakfast and brew some fresh coffee.

She was busy scrambling the eggs when Dempsey wandered in, hair tousled, sleepy eyed and wearing just his boxers. She turned round when she heard him shuffle in, his tanned skin, hairy chest and six pack stomach causing her to ache for him.

"For God's sake put a shirt on, darling." she said, deliberately turning her back on him. "And go and take a cold shower."

"Boy, you and your principles!" he replied. "Even the sheets are fresh and ours, yet you still hold me off."

"Yes, well, this is difficult enough, but at least they are our sheets." she replied, biting her lip. "I'm sorry darling, but it wouldn't be right making love in someone else's bed."

"So let's sleep in the spare room then." offered Dempsey, putting his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. "I doubt anyone has ever been in it!"

"I'll think about it." she replied, steeling herself not to turn round and drag him in there. "Go and have that shower. Breakfast is nearly ready."

Dempsey obeyed, grinning to himself.

He'd spied a chink in her armour - the spare room! - why hadn't he thought of suggesting it earlier!

Whistling his way into the shower, he set the temperature to comfortably warm.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ivan had spent the night alone, having finally exhausted his libido with the two call girls by early evening.

Not having had the opportunity to run his usual six miles for the last few days, he launched himself into running on the spot for forty-five minutes, alternating between a jog and then a sprint, followed by his routine of press ups and sit ups.

Taking a shower, he spent another two hours re-touching his disguise, then, venturing out into the night, he'd found an out of the way cafe and ate an evening meal of rump steak, chips and two fried eggs, returning to his room by eleven o'clock.

He was ready for a woman again but knew he would have to forego the temptation as he daren't miss a call from Cheng Deshi, which could come through at any moment.

Instead, he lay on his bed and thought of Belinda, finally drifting into sleep by two in the morning.

He was woken at eight by his telephone. It was Cheng Deshi.

"The fog is finally lifting." he said. "It is one in the morning here. I have a flight booked at seven and is scheduled to land at Heathrow by six am, your time. I will call you from my hotel."

"I will be waiting." replied Ivan, replacing the receiver.

He had a whole day and night to himself and he knew just how he'd like to spend it.

He reached for the 'phone again and dialled Belinda's number.

She was asleep in bed next to Hugo, who grabbed the telephone, remembering in the nick of time not to answer it, so nudged her awake and handed it over.

"Hello." she said, sleepily.

"Ah my little zaika." said Ivan, Belinda sitting bolt upright and beginning to shake the instant she heard his voice. Hugo sat up too and put his arm around her, alarmed at the terror spreading across her face.

"Ivan?" she said finally.

"Yes it's me, your big Ivan." he said. "I've missed you. I'm coming over. Be ready for me, I want you badly."

"O..Okay, ba..baby." she replied, trying to keep the stutter out of her speech. Hugo hugged her, giving her strength.

"I'll be here." she said, grasping his hand in hers.

As soon as the line went dead the other end, she collapsed in tears, just the sound of his voice bringing memories of the rape rushing back to her.

Hugo held her close to him, stroking her hair, eventually calming her. If there had been any resentment still left in him of her betrayal in the early days of their relationship, it was banished for good that morning.

Parked down the road from her flat, but with it's entrance clearly in view, Terry and Josh had recently relieved Sam and John, who'd been sat in the car since midnight.

They were just settling into their vigil, when a black cab drew up in front of the apartment block, a tall man with black hair getting out and walking swiftly to the entrance doors.

"That could be him." said Josh. "Warn Dempsey."

Dempsey had just finished dressing when his walkie talkie bleeped, Harry at the same time answering one of the buzzing intercom handsets, fixed to the kitchen wall.

Immediately alert, she just listened.

"It's me." said a voice, as Dempsey came flying into the lounge, Magnum in hand.

Harry slammed the handset down, rushed to leave the front door ajar then dashed into the bedroom, quickly throwing off her dressing gown and climbing into a T shirt and slacks, grabbing her revolver at the same time.

"Stay outta sight in the kitchen." instructed Dempsey. "I'll wait in the bedroom. The guys will be followin' him up here."

They took their places and waited, the silence deafening.

All of a sudden they heard a voice.

As silent as a cat, Ivan had entered the flat and was already in the lounge.

"Belinda. Hello." he called softly. "Are you naked and ready for me?"

Dempsey stood behind the bedroom door and braced himself, Magnum ready. As soon as Ivan walked in, he kicked the door shut.

"Stand very still an' raise ya hands!" he said. "Now!"

Ivan's hands remained by his side.

Dempsey cocked the hammer with a loud double click.

"This is a Magnum. It'll blow ya head clean off." warned Dempsey. "Do as I say or I'll cripple ya first off!"

Harry quietly opened the door.

"Do as he says or one of us will kill you!" she said.

Ivan knew when he was beaten. He'd half thought he'd risk calling a possible bluff, but with another gun trained on him now, any attempt would prove fruitless.

He raised his hands.

At that point Josh and Terry appeared.

"Cuff him, Josh." said Dempsey, warning Ivan. "No stoopid moves bozo, or you'll be dead before you know it."

Ivan slowly turned round, his pale blue eyes scanning them like a couple of lasers.

Harry shivered.

This man was frightening but there was a magnetism about him, an aura of danger surrounding him that gave him an added air of mystery. She immediately understood why Belinda had been initially so attracted to him.

Once Josh had handcuffed his hands behind his back, Dempsey instructed Ivan to continue standing still.

"Call it in Terry." said Dempsey. "See if Spikings wants us or the Russians to take it from here."

The message came back to sit still. The Russians were on their way to take charge of their traitor.

"Guess once you've been convicted of the murder of Charlie Hill, an' your oppo, you'll be lucky to spend your days breakin' rocks in Siberia." said Dempsey. "That's if ya ain't shot by a firin' squad."

Ivan remained staring at each of them, his face impassive as three revolvers and a Magnum stayed pointing straight at him.

Before long two KGB officers arrived and escorted Ivan away, Josh giving them the key to his cuffs, Harry heaving a sigh of relief.

She would never forget the look of utter hatred in his scary eyes as he was marched out of the flat.

"No doubt they'll extract where the file is." remarked Terry. "He's in for one hell of a tough time."

Harry shuddered at the images in her mind and wondered what sort of broken human being would emerge after the Russians had finished interrogating him.

Her train of thoughts were broken by Dempsey walking over to the sideboard and grabbing a bottle of Jameson's.

"Anyone wanna drink?" he asked, looking at each of them. "I guess we could all do with a leveler."

"Dempsey! That's Belinda's!" exclaimed Harry, shaking her head at him.

"Harry, we've just saved her from a fate worse than death!" replied Dempsey. "I don' think she'll begrudge us a tot of whisky, huh?"

"Bit early for me, Dempsey." said Josh. "But if there's some coffee going, I'd take a drop of that in it."

"You got it!" replied Dempsey. "Terry? Harry?"

"Yeah okay." agreed Terry, nodding.

"Just coffee for me." said Harry as she went through to the kitchen, returning with a tray of mugs and the coffee pot.

After they'd spent half an hour talking and winding down, Harry was eager to leave.

"Come on, Dempsey." she said, glancing over at him, an unmistakable twinkle in her eye, unnoticed by Josh or Terry. "Let's go home."

"Yeah." he said, grinning at her, then addressing the other two. "Tell Spikings we'll be in this afternoon for a full debrief. And thanks, lads, good job."

"And where's my thanks, partner?" said Harry, after they'd gone.

"Oh I got a special thanks for you, honey." replied Dempsey, putting his arms around her waist and kissing her on the lips.

"Yes? What sort of special thanks?" she asked softly, her arms round his neck, her lips playing with his.

"Put it this way." replied Dempsey, running his finger down her spine, feeling her immediately shudder, aroused as she let out a gasp. "It don' involve a spare room, but it does involve our bed!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Ivan and his two colleagues reached the ground floor, he suddenly leant against the wall, groaning and bending double.

As his guardians stood and watched him, unsure what to do, Ivan straightened up in a flash and headbutted the one, whilst kicking the other in the groin, following that up with another vicious kick to the head and knocking him unconscious. Stamping on the first one, he kicked his head too, then knelt down and, with his back to him, searched for the key to his handcuffs.

Locating them, he quickly worked on the lock, soon breaking free. Within seconds he was sprinting down the road and heading for his hotel room.

When the two injured KGB officers came to, they scrambled out to their car and roared away, intent on reporting Ivan's escape as soon as possible and bracing themselves for a severe dressing down.

The last thing they were going to do, was return to Belinda's flat and tell their English counterparts that they'd let Ivan escape!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It wasn't until that afternoon when the news filtered through to SI-10.

Spikings emerged from his office and leaned against the door jam, Dempsey and Harry looking up and wondering what on earth had happened, given the fury on his face.

"They've let the bastard escape!" he boomed, looking round the office at all the shocked faces. "We're bloody well back to square one!"


	14. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14.**

By the time Ivan reached his hotel room, he was seething with anger and betrayal and bent on brutal revenge.

He swore that once he'd concluded his dealings with Cheng Deshi, he'd hunt that bitch Belinda down and after he'd exhausted himself of her body, he'd disfigure her so badly, she'd never attract another man again!

In the meantime, he'd satisfy his raging lust on another prostitute, so called down to the landlord, instructing him to arrange it for him.

Half an hour later there came a knock at his door and when he opened it, he almost recoiled in horror.

Standing there was a black woman, half her breasts on show in an impossibly low cut top, a mini skirt barely covering her modesty and legs covered in black stockings encased in a pair of knee high white leather boots.

It was Winnie Simons, Harry's friend and contact, who'd often provided useful information on underworld characters and their dealings. Seeing the look in his eyes, she turned to run, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly into the room.

To him, call girls were pieces of meat to be physically enjoyed, black ones no better than the excrement he might scrap off his shoe. It wasn't only his lust that this one would satisfy, his anger needed venting too.

As Winnie opened her mouth to scream, Ivan punched her in the face and threw her onto the bed. Then he was on top of her, grinning menacingly, his eyes a glittering, evil, ice blue, one fist going to work, the other hand ripping and tearing at her clothes.

An hour later, finally satisfied, he lifted the telephone and dialled the Holiday Inn at Heathrow, booking himself a double room under the name of Claude Remus, a Frenchman and using one of the false identities he'd collected.

As he left the room, he stood over a battered, unconscious, bleeding Winnie and spat, then departed quickly, suitcase and briefcase in hand, the landlord looking astonishingly at him as he swept past him and out of the door.

After a while, the landlord suddenly realized he hadn't seen Winnie leave and, with rising dread, he hurried up to Ivan's room.

He nearly wept at the sight before him.

She was lying face down on the bed, part naked, what clothes she still had on were torn and hanging off her in strips. Dried blood, streaking down the inside of her thighs, had matted with her tattered stockings.

He daren't turn her over, he could already see the side of her face was badly bruised. Rushing to the telephone he dialled 999 and, with a shaking voice, urgently called for an ambulance.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After Spikings had imparted the news that Ivan had escaped, Dempsey went into a rage, Harry grabbing his arm and steering him out into the corridor and then into the ladies rest room.

"Dempsey! Calm down for Gods sake!" she shouted. "We're all bloody angry, but working yourself into a frenzy over it, get's you nowhere fast!"

He slammed his fist into one of the metal lockers, skinning his knuckles in the process, then stood there, resting his forehead on the dented door, breathing deeply.

Harry remained silent, letting him come back down to earth.

When he finally turned to look at her, she could see his anger was abating and put her arms round his waist, looking up into his brown eyes.

"We've been here once before, remember?" she said, looking around. "It was me who was the angry one then though, wasn't it."

"Yeah." he replied, remembering. "Sorry honey, I kinda lost it back there."

"You did, didn't you. Feel better now?" she asked, taking his bloodied hand in hers and gently kissing it. "Look what you've done to this you soppy idiot."

He smiled at her and she was about to kiss him when the door opened, Spikings peering round it.

"Harry." he said, the look on his face telling her something bad had happened, especially as he was using her christian name too." There's a call for you. I think you'd better take it."

Hurriedly returning to her desk, she picked up her telephone.

"Is that er, Harry Mac?" asked a voice.

"Yes it is." she replied, knowing instantly this was about Winnie. "Who's calling please?"

"This is Doctor Alastair White from the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel." he said. "We've recently admitted a patient, a coloured lady, Winifred Simons, whose written your name on a piece of paper."

"My actual name is Harriet Makepeace and I hold the rank of Sergeant." clarified Harry, before asking quietly. "What's happened to her?"

"She's been beaten up, Sergeant." replied the doctor. "And sexually abused, rather badly too, I'm afraid."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Harry, her hand across her mouth, Dempsey standing close by her side, his arm across her shoulder. "Can I see her?"

"She's under heavy sedation right now." replied Doctor White. "And she's not a pretty sight."

"Doctor, I'm a police officer and used to seeing people with injuries." argued Harry. "Now, I'd like to see her please."

"I'm sorry, I can't allow it." he replied. "Both her eyes are closed with heavy bruising. She's sustained a broken jaw, cheekbone and nose, three broken ribs, a punctured lung and has been repeatedly raped, both in the conventional way, if I may put it like that and, er, from behind, which has left her very badly torn. So you see, please understand, it's not appropriate that she has visitors at present."

Harry was silent for a moment while his words sank in, reaching her hand up to her shoulder and taking hold of Dempsey's, he gripping it gently, reassuringly.

"How on earth did she manage to write anything!?" she asked eventually, incredulous, swallowing the tears back as she visualized what Winnie must look like and what she must have gone through to look like it. "I mean, what does it say?"

"It's almost illegible, just a scrawl, but we pieced it together. Er, it says, 'call Harry Mac at SI-10 Police London'." said the doctor, obviously reading from it. "Please keep in touch with the ward. We will contact you if there's any change in her condition, either way. Does she have any next of kin we might contact?"

"I don't know, doctor." replied Harry. "She's an escort, a call girl and we're old friends."

"I see." said Doctor White. "It appears one of her clients has taken his liberties rather too far this time. I'll ensure the staff are aware of your connection and to regard you as close to family as is possible in the circumstances."

"I want her moved to a private room and given the best care money can buy." said Harry. "I'll come in shortly and sign any paperwork that's required."

"Fine, thank you." said the doctor. "But please remember, you won't be allowed to see her, not just yet."

"No, I understand. Take my home number, please." said Harry, reading it out. "Which ward is she in?"

"Nightingale Ward." replied the doctor. "Ground floor. It's well sign posted."

"Thank you, doctor. Goodbye." she said as she replaced her handset slowly and looked up at Dempsey, blinking back the tears that filled her eyes, one or two escaping and dropping onto her desk.

"It's Winnie." she said, her voice faltering as she searched her handbag for some tissues, bringing out a handful and dabbing her eyes with one. "She's been badly beaten up and raped. She's in a bad way."

"Where was she when this happened?" asked Dempsey, softly.

"I don't know, I didn't ask." replied Harry, then looked at Spikings who was also standing close by. "Sir, do you mind if we try and find out who did this?"

"We've hit a wall with this Ivan Davidovich character for the moment, so, yes, you and Dempsey see what you can do this afternoon." he replied.

"Thank you, sir." she said, then looking at Dempsey, still holding his hand and standing up. "Can we go please, we need to find out from the hospital where she was found."

When they arrived at the Royal London and located Nightingale Ward, Harry was told Winnie had already been moved to a quiet, private room. She gave out her details, the nurse's attention clearly heightened when it became apparent that Winnie's care was being funded by Lady Harriet Dempsey and not a police sergeant as had originally been understood.

After finalizing the details, they were given the name and address of the hotel where Winnie was found.

"That's not far from Belinda's." remarked Harry, glancing across the car at Dempsey as they drove. "Am I being paranoiac in thinking Ivan Davidovich is involved somewhere in Winnie's attack!?"

"We'll soon know." replied Dempsey as he pulled up outside the hotel.

The landlord was behind the reception desk when they walked in and introduced themselves. He immediately took them up to Ivan's room and pointed out where he'd found Winnie, still clearly distressed.

When Dempsey asked him for the description of the guest who'd occupied the room, Harry's legs nearly went from under her, Dempsey rushing to support her. Hugging her to him, his arm around her shoulder, he walked her slowly out of the room, into the lift and down to the bar, asking for a stiff drink.

"You know this bloke?" asked the landlord, whilst he filled a glass from a brandy optic, handing over the equivalent of a triple.

"Yeah, we do." replied Dempsey as Harry began sipping her drink. "He's wanted for two homicides, an' an earlier rape."

"Bloody 'ell!" replied the landlord. "Always thought he looked a scary bugger."

"How long's he been here?" asked Dempsey.

"Two days." came the reply. "Sex mad too. Had two prossies up there with him most of yesterday."

"Were they okay?" asked Dempsey.

"Yeah. Looked bloody exhausted when they left mind, but other than that they looked alright." said the landlord, glancing at Harry as she finished her brandy. "How you feelin'?"

"Better thank you." she answered quietly, then looking at Dempsey said. "We'd better go."

"Yeah, thanks pal." he said to the landlord. "You'll need to make a statement. A local officer'll be round to take it."

When they'd returned to the car, Harry sat in her seat, her eyes closed for a moment before opening them and looking across at Dempsey.

"You know, I even felt some pity for that bastard when I thought what the Russians might do to him under their brand of interrogation." she said, quietly. "But now, I'd give anything to be part of it with them!"

"Yeah, me too, princess, me too." replied Dempsey, starting the car. "You okay?"

"Yes thanks." she replied. "Do we have to go back to the office?"

"You know we do, honey." said Dempsey, taking hold of her hand. "But we don' have to stay long. Just long enough to tell Spikings what we've foun' out."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once Ivan had checked into his room at the Holiday Inn, he'd immediately made an international call to Beijing Capital International Airport and explained, in Chinese, that he needed to get an urgent message to a Cheng Deshi who was due out on a seven am flight to London Heathrow, but he'd no idea which airline he'd be travelling on.

With typical Chinese efficiency he was eventually put through to the British Airways flight desk.

It was still only six am there and, on confirming that their passenger, Cheng Deshi, was booked on the seven am flight, Ivan left a short message for him saying he was now staying at the Holiday Inn.

He then scribbled out his room number on a sheet of headed note paper, slipped it into an envelope and gave it to a receptionist, asking that it be passed to Deshi upon his arrival.

Thirsty and hungry, he then went into the main restaurant, ordered a double vodka and studied the menu

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Harry and Dempsey arrived back at SI-10, they immediately went into Spikings's office, asking Chas to join them, and reported their findings to them both.

"Right. Put together as accurate an identikit of Davidovich as you possibly can." instructed Spikings. "Then, Chas, make sure every TV broadcaster runs it during their news programs. BBC radio and all the other commercial stations must put out verbal descriptions and blanket requests for anybody who's seen this creature to come forward, no matter how obscure. Also we need it out on 'Crimewatch' whenever that's next to air."

"Tonight as a matter of fact, Guv." said Chas. "Leave it with me."

"How about you two?" asked Spikings, looking at Dempsey and Harry as Chas left the office. "You cool, calm and collected now?"

"Yeah Chief." replied Dempsey. "Sorry I let it get to me earlier."

Spikings nodded his acceptance, then glanced at Harry.

"I'm fine now thank you, sir." she said, smiling at him.

"Good. Go and sort that identikit picture out. And take Josh and Terry with you." he suggested. "Between the four of you, you should be able to put together a lifelike image. I don't expect it'll be long before the 'phones start ringing once it's out in the public domain and after our bulletins hit the airwaves. With any luck it won't be long before we wrap this up once and for all."

"What about the CIA and KGB, Chief?" asked Dempsey. "You gonna keep'em in the loop?"

"As far as the CIA are concerned, they've left us to it. They are busy trying to root out the mole, or moles, who got hold of the file in the first place." replied Spikings. "The KGB are licking their wounds. They've a lot of yoke on their faces. I dread to think what punishments they are metering out to their two officers who lost Davidovich. The Russians are pretty unforgiving when it comes to failure."

"Yeah, well let's hope they ain't forgivin' when we hand that goddam Russian freak over to 'em." said Dempsey.

"I hope they don't shoot him." murmured Harry. "I hope he spends the rest of his worthless days in a living hell!"


	15. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15.**

Nothing much occurred through the morning, only the occasional reports of sightings of Ivan having been received, but which came to nothing when followed up.

However, when the lunchtime news bulletins were aired on TV and the national radio stations put out his descriptions, things started to happen.

Throughout the afternoon, the telephone's started ringing on all the desks in the specially set up communications centre.

A team of female receptionists had been filtering the calls, separating the cranks from those who appeared worthy of further questioning and transferring them over to the SI-10 detectives.

In between these calls, Harry had been checking with the hospital, every hour on the hour, for reports on Winnie's condition, learning that she was stable, comfortable and slowly healing.

But she was still not allowed any visitors.

It was six in the evening, the team having just been given their rotas for manning the office for the next twelve hours and Harry was looking forward to a break with Dempsey before they reported for duty at midnight, when her telephone rang again.

Thinking of Winnie, a drink, a meal and relaxing with her husband for a few hours, she answered it.

"Harry?" asked Fiona Wainwright, who'd spoken to her several times through the day. "It's Fi. I've got a guy on the 'phone who sounds quite genuine. Won't give his name, though, but I think he's Italian. Shall I patch him through?"

"Yes of course Fi." replied Harry and waited while the caller was transferred to her.

"Hello?" said a voice, so softly it was barely audible. "Issa that the police?"

"Yes, this is Detective Sergeant Makepeace." replied Harry. "I can't hear you very well, sir. Can you speak up? Who's calling please?"

"My name issa Mario Borsini." he whispered, obviously Italian but speaking good English, albeit slowly. "I am onna the reception deska at the Holiday Inna, Heathrow."

"Yes Mr Borsini." replied Harry. "Do you have some information for me?"

"Yessa, I do." replied Mario, still speaking quietly and slowly, but now more clearly. "I havva seen a picture onna the TV screen anda I'm sure the manna you are looking for issa staying here."

"Where is he right now?" asked Harry, gesturing to Dempsey and pointing to her 'phone.

"Inna his rooma." replied Mario. "He justa ordered a bottle of vodka."

"Thankyou Mr Borsini." said Harry. "What's his room number?"

"Two one eighta." replied Mario.

"Okay. We'll check it out." said Harry, scribbling it down. "When does your shift end?"

"Notta for another four hoursa." replied Mario.

"Okay. Do nothing for the time being." said Harry. "We're on our way."

After putting her 'phone down and with Dempsey following, she knocked on Spikings' door.

"COME!" he bellowed, looking up as they entered his office.

"Sir, I've just received what sounds like a positive sighting of Davidovich" said Harry and related her call with Mario.

"Yes that does sound authentic." agreed Spikings. "Right. I'll be out in a minute. Get everyone together. We need to run through just how we're going to handle this. I want no mistakes!"

Having agreed their stategy and leaving two operatives in the office to take any further calls, the rota now abandoned, the rest piled into their cars and headed for the Holiday Inn.

Although night had now set in, they still stopped round the corner and then drove onto the well lit car park at separate intervals, just in case Ivan's room overlooked it and he was alerted by a sudden convoy arriving all at once.

It had just gone seven when they were taking up their pre-arranged positions, each of the three external emergency exits, wrought iron staircases, hiding an operative at their bases, and various detectives mingling at a newsstand, bar, restaurant and in the main lobby.

Dempsey, Harry and Spikings strolled over to the reception desk and, after checking none of the public were in earshot, asked to speak to Mario Borsini.

When he emerged from the back office, Harry did the talking.

"Mario?" she asked as he stood staring at her, and like any red bloodied young Italian male, was clearly impressed by this stunningly beautiful blonde woman in front of him, someone far removed from his mental image of a female police sergeant.

"Er yessa." he replied, now smiling at her, hoping she might be attracted to his dark, Mediterranean looks.

"I'm DS Makepeace." said Harry, his appraising gaze not lost on her. "We spoke to each other earlier. You said the man we are looking for is in room two one eight. Is he still there?"

Er yessa." preened Mario, his dark brown eyes studying hers, sadness suddenly flashing in them when he spotted her wedding ring, Harry deliberately brushing one side of her hair back so it was in full view.

She had to get him back on track!

"You're sure." said Dempsey, not unamused at the longing in Mario's eyes for his wife. "You ain't seen him leavin'."

"No." replied Mario, glancing at Dempsey and sensing he and this beauty before him were connected in some way. As Harry subtley shifted sideways and nestled gently into Dempsey, Mario got the message.

"Can we go back there?" asked Spikings, nodding towards the back room office. "We need to speak to your General Manager and your Head of Security."

"Yessa, of course. Follow me." replied Mario, lifting a section of the counter and beckoning the three through the gap. "I willa fetcha them botha."

When he took his position back on the reception desk, Cheng Deshi was checking in at the other end of it. He could sense tension in the air and, although the SI-10 team were 'invisible', he could smell police a mile off.

Quickly scanning Ivan's message, given to him by a receptionist, he swiftly made his way to the lifts and up to his room on the third floor. Once there he picked up his bedside telephone and dialled 218, speaking in Chinese when Ivan answered.

"Does anyone know you're here?" he asked, urgently.

"No." replied Ivan. "Why?"

"I have a feeling there are police in the hotel." said Cheng. "Bring the file and come to my room. It's 341."

Down in the office, having briefed them on who they were and why they were there, Spikings, Dempsey and Harry were in conference with the hotel's General Manager and his Head of Security.

Spikings was busy dishing out orders and, addressing Mark Ledwith, the Head of Security, was instructing him.

"I want each floor guarded by two of your men. One at the fire exit, the other near the lift and the stairs since they're usually in close proximity to each other."

"Yes of course Chief Superintendent." confirmed Mark.

"This man is a KGB spy, a trained assassin, powerful, fit and utterly deadly." said Spikings. "Do not underestimate his abilities. Can your boys handle that?"

"Yes sir, they can." assured Mark. "They'll be carrying weapons and have been fully trained on how to use them. I think they'll relish getting involved with something other than the usual domestic issues that befall us in a large hotel."

"Yeah, just so long as they ain't too trigger happy." said Dempsey, fearful that these guys might get a little above themselves in the heat of the moment.

"Don't worry, Mr Dempsey." said Mark. "I can assure you I will be briefing them all most carefully."

"How long before you're all in position?" asked Spikings, glancing at his watch and noting the time was now seven forty. "And I'll need a pass key to 218 by the way."

"Ten minutes, Chief Superintendent." replied Mark, opening a drawer in the desk, bringing out a small envelope inside of which was the spare plastic, credit card size key and handing it to Spikings.

"Okay. Thanks. At precisely seven fifty-five, we will surround room 218 and enter unannounced if necessary." confirmed Spikings, allowing an extra five minutes in his timing, then turning to the General Manager, Gareth Adams. "Can you ensure that those guests in all rooms on the first, second and third floors stay put and don't venture out under any circumstances?"

"Yes that shouldn't present a problem." replied Gareth. "As it happens most guests at this time will have checked out to catch their early flights, another influx not due until nine o'clock when most incoming International flights have landed. There's always a lull between the two. I'll ensure too that the room cleaning staff are grounded for the time being."

"Good, let's get to it then." said Spikings as they dispersed to carry out their individual tasks, Dempsey whispering to Harry and grinning.

"Flattered another good lookin' Italian was givin' ya the come on?"

"Of course!" she whispered back. "But I've only just snared one part Italian, I need a full bloodied one like a hole in the head!"

At the allotted time, everyone knowing the plan, Dempsey, Harry, Spikings and Chas made their way up to the second floor, using the stairs and stopping off on the first to ensure the guards were in place, Dempsey sprinting up to the third and checking there.

Returning to the second, he joined the other three as they walked strealthily along to room 218, weapons drawn and at the ready.

Dempsey tapped on the door with the barrel end of his Magnum.

No reply.

He tapped again, a little harder and cocking the hammer.

Still nothing.

With Chas and Harry flanking each other, legs apart, arms at full stretch and revolvers, silencers attached, clutched in both hands out in front of them, Spikings swiped the door lock and silently opened the door.

Slipping inside, Dempsey right behind him, Chas and Harry maintaining station, Spikings crept along the short corridor, noting the bathroom door to his right was open with no sign of Ivan.

Eventually finding themselves in the main bedroom, they lowered their weapons, the room silent, empty.

"Goddam it!" said Dempsey. "_Now _where is he!?"

Meanwhile in room 341, Cheng was studying the file, concentrating deeply on its contents, finally looking up at Ivan and smiling widely.

"I think we can do business." he said, picking up his telephone and dialling for an outside line. "Let me make a 'phone call."

After a five minute conversation, during which he spent most of the time nodding and sniggering, he replaced the handset.

"It is agreed." he said. "Ten million dollars will be transferred immediately to a bank account of your choosing. Do you have the details?"

"I do." confirmed Ivan, drawing a piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it over. Cheng picked up the telephone again and made another call, reading out the details of the Swiss bank account number.

"An amount this size will take a couple of hours to reach your account." he said. "Do you need to call your bank and alert them?"

"Yes." replied Ivan, taking the handset from him and dialling, eventually talking in French to the recipient at the other end.

"It is done." he said, replacing the receiver. "They will call me in this room when the money is in my account."

"Excellent!" said Cheng. "I think this is cause for a celebration, don't you? I'll call down for some champagne. In the meantime, when you leave here, be very careful. As I've already said, I believe there are police around. It may have nothing to do with you, but you need to be on your toes."

Having alerted the guards to keep out of sight on the second floor, yet be watchful for Ivan appearing at any moment, Spikings and the rest returned to the lobby, Mario catching Harry's attention.

"Uh-oh, lover boy wants another word." said Dempsey, having seen Mario at the same time.

"Aw, he's quite sweet really." said Harry, enjoying making amends for Hugo's attentive receptionist and Belinda's friend Sally's propositioning of Dempsey. "I wonder what the handsome boy wants with me?"

Dempsey went with her to find out.

"Itta maybe nothing." said Mario quietly, when the two of them reached him. "Butta a guesta who hadda arrived on his owna, inna the last half an hour, has justa asked for a bottle of champagner anda two glasses."

"Yeah? So?" said Dempsey, believing this was just an excuse to get near to Harry again. "Guess he could have a lady with him, huh?"

"Maybe." shrugged Mario. "I saw hima check inna. He was Chinese."

"So? Some broads go for those slitty eyed Chinks." replied Dempsey, but Harry grabbed his arm and steered him away.

"Dempsey! Listen!" she said, out of Mario's earshot. "There may be nothing in it. But Chinese? Russian? Getting together? Celebrating? We can't let _anything _skip our attention, no matter how unlikely, can we."

"What? You suggestin' this Ivan creep is doin' a deal with the Chinese?" said Dempsey, suddenly seeing what Harry was alluding to, things beginning to slip into place, he beginning to think outside the box like she was.

"He wasn't in his room, was he!?" she replied. "Might he have been in this Chinaman's?"

"Shoot!" said Dempsey, looking at her excitedly. "Yeah! Get the guys' room number, pronto! I'll tell Spikings."

Although Spikings was skeptical about the tenuous connection, he agreed it was worth checking out, so along with Chas and Harry, once she had joined them with Cheng's room number, the four made their way to the third floor, having instructed that the champagne not be delivered just yet.


	16. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16.**

On their way up using the internal staircase, Spikings and Chas simultaneously, via their walkie talkies, alerted the rest of the team as to what was going down, instructing those in the hotel to leave their various posts and position themselves on the second, third and fourth stairways.

If Ivan appeared, it meant he'd escaped and had to be stopped, so, if he resisted further arrest, they were to disable him by shooting him in the legs. On no account was he to be killed, as it was up to the Russians to decide his ultimate fate after he'd been handed over to them.

Harry shuddered again upon hearing this instruction, mental images of what they might do to an injured traitor under interrogation coursing through her mind, but then remembered Belinda's rape, Charlie Hill's murder, the poisioning of one of his own and finally Winnie's brutal beating and vicious sexual abuse.

She shook the concern away.

He didn't deserve any compassion from her.

As before, when they'd reached Ivan's own room, Dempsey tapped on the door of 341 with the barrel of his Magnum.

This time they didn't have a pass key, so he raised his gun to eye level.

"Who is it?" came a voice from inside.

Harry answered.

"Your champagne, sir?" she said, then, as with Chas, stood with her revolver pointing straight at the door.

As it slowly opened, Dempsey kicked it as hard as he could and pressed his Magnum directly onto the forehead of a startled Cheng.

"Back!" he ordered, his eyes, cool yet hard, boring into Chengs. "Hands! Up!"

Cheng hesitated, Dempsey pressed harder and cocked the hammer, Cheng then under no illusion this guy wanted an excuse to make a canoe out of his head.

He raised his hands and began to walk slowly backwards.

Ivan stood absolutely still, surveying the scene, weighing things up as Cheng reversed into the bedroom.

He recognised Dempsey and his eyes glittered with pure hatred, the evil in him permeating the room's atmosphere.

Spikings pointed his gun at him.

"Turn round and face the window!" he ordered. "Put your arms behind your back."

Ivan didn't move.

Spikings cocked the hammer.

"Do it now or I'll pull this trigger." he warned, Harry suddenly appearing at his side.

"And if he doesn't, so help me God, _I will_!" she said, her eyes matching Ivan's in seething loathing, an audible click sounding as she armed her revolver.

Dempsey continued staring coldly at Cheng.

"An' you can siddown!" he ordered, pushing him toward a chair with the Magnum's barrel still firmly planted on his forehead.

Cheng's scrupulous gaze defied the order and he stood stock still, Dempsey noting the hardened nature of his black, narrow and expressionless eyes.

He knew instinctively the Chinaman was about to test his nerve.

"Wanna play games huh?" he growled and suddenly pistol whipped him, Cheng out cold before he hit the floor.

"Chas!" shouted Spikings. "Cuff the bastard!"

Chas quickly threw Cheng's lifeless arms round his back and secured his wrists with a pair of handcuffs.

"Now him!" ordered Spikings, nodding in Ivan's direction and glaring at him. "And if you move a muscle, sunny boy, all three of these guns pointing at you will fire!"

Ivan snarled in momentary defeat and turned his back on them, his arms behind his back as ordered. Chas quickly handcuffed him then spun him back round to face the room, drawing his revolver and leveling it at him.

"Sergeant." said Spikings. "Call our Russian friends and tell them we have their man and where. You've got their number haven't you?"

"Yes sir." she replied, pulling her diary from her pocket and walking to the bedside telephone, glancing at Ivan as she did so.

For the first time she saw a dark shadow of fear strike his eyes.

He knew what fate was about to befall him if his colleagues in the KGB got hold of him.

He'd witnessed the torture that would be inflicted upon him now.

He'd brought disgrace to his country, had defied the President and was now a traitor. He'd be regarded less as a human being, more of filthy vermin and although Mikhail Gorbachev was one of the most compassionate Russian leaders of modern times, he'd turn a blind eye to Ivan's treatment.

Memories of 'The Street Sweeper's Daughter', a rack that would stretch a victim out in opposite directions, compressing the body, so that the head was forced down with the legs folded and pushed upwards, came flooding back.

Visions of the severe cramp it caused the victim, even forcing blood from the ears and nose, the device sending the person mad with pain after a certain time, fuelled his fear even more.

Or one of the most frightening of all, 'The Jerking'.

His hands would be tied behind his back, a rope around his wrist and attached to a winch. Then he'd be suspended by his arms with his lower limbs twitching, weights being attached to his feet leaving him hanging, while flesh would be sliced from his body with knives and stripped away using pliers.

No, he wasn't going to face any of that if he could help it.

He'd rather be dead.

Biding his time until Harry was half way through her call he, without warning, suddenly charged at Chas, lowering a shoulder and bouncing him out of his way as he focussed on his next target, Dempsey.

But before he could reach him, a battery of fire exploded in his ears, followed by sharp pain in both legs as the bullets tore into his flesh, felling him instantly.

He lay there, writhing in agony as the others stood over him, quiet and staring at him.

"Please!" he begged, tears beginning to course down his cheeks as he looked up at them. "Please do not let them take me! I have ten million dollars for you. Please! You can have it all!"

The silence was deafening, his panic rising with every beat of his black heart, the faces of his captors impassive, uncaring and devoid of all compassion.

He was still sobbing and pleading when, half an hour later, a siren could be heard as an ambulance pulled up outside the hotel's main entrance. Two paramedics swept in with a stretcher and took the lift to the third floor, guests and visitors alike staring at them, unsure as to what exactly was going on, having heard the gunshots earlier.

When the paramedics entered room 341, one of them took a syringe and, without hesitating, plunged it into a wild eyed Ivan's neck.

Seconds later he was unconscious.

They lifted him onto the stretcher and disappeared.

After a few minutes a man appeared in the doorway.

"I am Colonel Aleks Mihalovich, KGB." he said. "Who is in charge here?"

Spikings stepped forward.

"Chief Superintendent Spikings, Colonel, SI-10." he replied and introduced Chas, Dempsey and Harry to him.

"Thank you, Chief Superintendent." said the Colonel, nodding, too, at the other three. "As you are no doubt aware, the ambulance is ours. We were taking no chances with Ivan Davidovich after our last failure. Please, do you have the file? I am instructed to see it safely returned to the USA personally, in accordance with my Presidents direct instructions."

As Spikings located the file, Cheng Deshi groaned and began to wake up, the Colonel glancing round to stare at him.

"Who is this?" he asked.

"We believe he's just paid your man ten million dollars for this." said Spikings as he handed the file over. "On behalf of the Chinese Republic."

"Is that so?" chuckled the Colonel. "Well, er - how do you say? Looks like he got a bum deal!"

Cheng finally came fully awake to a lot of laughing faces looking at him.

"What will you do with him?" asked the Colonel.

"Oh, I doubt anything." replied Spikings, a twinkle in his eye as he looked back at him. "Not much point in hauling him through the courts at the British tax payers expense. I'm not even sure what we could charge him with, seeing as the file actually belongs to the CIA. Much better to agree with the Americans to split his payment three ways? Covers all our costs and more, doesn't it? All you've got to do, is ask your captive for his bank account details, eh?"

"Yes, I'm sure we can agree to a deal of that kind." smiled the Colonel. "No doubt Ivan Davidovich will impart his knowledge eventually."

Harry closed her eyes.

"What's your name?" asked Spikings, looking at the Chinaman.

"Cheng Deshi." came the reply.

Spikings looked at Chas. "Take his cuffs off, Chas."

"Okay, off you go." said Spikings as Cheng rubbed his wrists, before grabbing his holdall and scampering out of the room.

"I expect his superiors will have something to say to him." remarked the Colonel. "Well, I must leave too. Thank you again."

"Good job well done." said Spikings after the Colonel had left. "Sleep well tonight all, you've deserved it."

"I don't know about sleep." whispered Harry, slipping her arm through Dempsey's. "But I'm looking forward to bed."

"Hmmm, I wonder what could you mean, Mrs Dempsey." he replied, grinning, as they reached the car and slid into their seats. "Far be it for me to rain on our parade though honey, but don' ya wanna check on Winnie first?"

"Yes I do." replied Harry. "Shall we see if they're allowing her visitors?"

"Yeah okay." he said, firing up the car and accelerating away towards Whitechapel. They were allowed to see her, but it was pointless trying to speak to her seeing as her jaw was still wired up and she was sleeping.

"Oh look at her." said Harry, tears in her eyes. "Bless her. She'll be so pleased when we're able to tell her we've got that bastard. At least that will be _some _compensation for what he did to her."

It would be another six weeks before Winnie was able to speak again, Harry checking on her progress every day.

In the meantime. Glo visited that weekend as originally planned, Dempsey collecting her from Euston station on the Friday evening and later, the three of them dining out at Romano's in Knightbridge.

As planned, they spent the next two days showing her the sights of London, treating her to afternoon tea at the Ritz, box seats for a performance of 'Phantom of the Opera' and a trip by private motor launch on the Thames from Westminster to Greenwich and back.

In the early evening of Sunday they drove her to Heathrow in Harry's car to catch her flight home to New York.

"It's been great guys." she said, hugging Dempsey and Harry in turn. "Harry, you're every bit the daughter-in-law I ever wanted and the wife for Jimmy I always prayed he'd find. You two are so together, it makes my heart bounce. An' ya Pa has become very special to me. He's quite a wonnerful fella."

"Will you be seeing each other again soon?" asked Harry.

"I guess so, yeah." she replied, smiling. "I've invited him out to New York. I hope he don' change his mind."

"Oh I think you can be sure he won't, Glo." replied Harry.

"Now you take good care of this gal, Jimmy." she said, turning to Dempsey. "She's one in a billion."

"Sure will Ma." replied Dempsey, kissing her cheek. "An' you call us when you hit the Big Apple. Jus' so we know you're home safe."

"You got it, son." she said, as she made her way to the check-in desk.

Dempsey lifted her cases onto the weighing platform, watched as the conveyor belt carried them away, then both he and Harry waved until she was out of sight and heading for the departure lounge.

Over the next six weeks, SI-10 was quiet, so Harry had plenty of time on her hands to visit Winnie and witness her recovery.

Her punctured lung hadn't collapsed, so it healed in tandem with the rest of her injuries and she was excited when a message came through that Winnie was fit enough to see her and Dempsey.

When they walked into her room, carrying a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates and a basket of assorted fruit, she was sittng up bed, the widest smile on her face when she saw them.

"Hey! 'Arry Mac an' 'er 'unky Yank!" she said, reaching out both hands and grasping each of theirs. "You two look great, 'specially you 'Arry. What you been feedin' 'er on Mr Dempsey? She's bleedin' glowin' mate."

They both laughed and told her about Ivans capture, Harry admitting he was in the hands of Russia's Secret Police, branded a traitor and likely to be paying dearly for all the misery he'd inflicted.

"I 'ope 'e burns in 'ell!" replied Winnie, her eyes as hard as nails. "I've been with some bastards in me time, goes with the job, but I never come across anyone like 'im before! 'Ow d'you get 'im, anyway?"

Harry related the story, Dempsey nipping out to get some coffee for them.

"'Arry you really are lookin' beautiful, luv, if yer don' mind my sayin'." said Winnie. "You gotta a glow 'bout yer, never seen yer like this. You hidin' somefink?"

"Nothing gets past you, does it Winnie." whispered Harry, looking around to make sure Dempsey wasn't about to walk back in. "I've not said anything yet to James, but I missed my period last month."

"What!? You never are!" replied Winnie, her eyes wide with delight.

"I think so, I'm not sure yet." said Harry, her eyes shining. "I've not tried the usual home tests, I don't altogether trust them, so I'm seeing the doctor tomorrow morning."

"You been throwin' up?" asked Winnie.

"This morning. For the first time." replied Harry. "Anyway shhh. James is coming back."

"Mum's the word, luv." whispered Winnie. "Let me know, soon as."

Harry nodded as Dempsey pushed the door open with his foot and carried in three polystyrene cups of steaming coffee.

"You two put the world to rights yet?" he said, grinning at them.

"You might say that." giggled Harry, winking at Winnie and holding Dempsey's hand.

"When you gettin' outta here, Winnie?" asked Dempsey.

"Not sure yet." she replied. "Won' be long though. 'Arry, by the way, I don' know what to say 'bout you payin' for all this care. I couldn't believe it when they told me you were behind me bein' in this private room."

"Winnie, shut up." said Harry, playfully. "Not another word, okay? You've always looked after me with your tip offs and put your life at risk for me sometimes. It's the very least I could do."

"You're a good friend 'Arry." said Winnie, tears beginning to fill her eyes. "Look at me! Soft bitch! I never bleedin' cry."

Harry hugged her. "You're very special." she said. "Now you keep getting better and we'll be in to see you again in a couple of days."

"Be sure you do, girl." replied Winnie, her look conveying its double meaning, Harry nodding her understanding and smiling as she and Dempsey waved goodbye.

The following evening they were due to meet up with the Necker gang for a night at Stringfellows - something that Hugo had originally suggested during the Ivan affair.

Belinda had wept with relief when Dempsey had called to tell her Ivan had been arrested amd was in the hands of the KGB. She had put her apartment up for sale and was now living with Hugo permanently, their relationship going from strength to strength, she having settled into domestic bliss and hoping he would pop the question one day soon.

While waiting for their taxi to arrive, Dempsey mixed a martini for Harry and went to hand it to her when she finally emerged from their bedroom, looking stunningly beautiful as usual.

She took it from him and laid it on the coffee table without taking a single sip, Dempsey watching this, a little puzzled.

"Don' you wan' it?" he said as she took his hand and kissed him tenderly on his lips.

"Not for the next nine months, no." she said, her eyes searching his for a reaction. "I know we agreed no babies for a while but..."

"You're pregnant!?" exclaimed Dempsey, his soft brown eyes misting up, the joy in them unmistakable as he pulled her to him, his turn to kiss her lips.

"Yes darling." she said, looking up at him, her eyes glistening. "I am."

**The End.**


	17. Chapter 18

**The Nightshaker Conspiracy.**

**Chapter 17.**

Authors Note.

I never fail to enjoy the reviews written about my ongoing stories of D&M and I thank every one of you who take the time and trouble to post your thoughts.

No doubt the last half of the last chapter came as a bit of a surprise with Harry's unplanned pregnancy and I'd deliberated for a while as to whether to spring it.

But life is like that and, let's face it, they had been testing Mother Nature for some time, given that their physical attraction to each other is so powerful.

And it will add an interesting dynamic to their relationship.

'Safely Fly The Stork' is next and will concentrate more on them than a plot.

Hope you enjoy it and thanks again.

Richard.


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